


Tell Me I'll Find a Home In Your Arms

by Roski



Series: Epsilon [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mates, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Nesting, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pack Bonding, Pack Cuddles, Scent Marking, Scenting, Teen Pregnancy, Teenage Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:28:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 29
Words: 52,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25027738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roski/pseuds/Roski
Summary: Having just found out he's pregnant, Milo has to tell his mate, family, and pretty much the entire town his news. Deciding to keep the litter of pups, he and A.W. struggle to find stability for their family trying to deal with their consequences. Being parents is hard enough, but being sixteen-seventeen year olds still learning about themselves and how they love each other? It's a whole other level. When tragedy strikes, how will they decide to move forward with their lives?
Relationships: Milo McCoy/A.W. Gibbs
Series: Epsilon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812382
Kudos: 10





	1. Celebrating the Wrong Thing

My smile faded from me as I left the bathroom, test hidden beneath wads of toilet paper in the trash can. Not everyone would be as happy with this development. Hell, I didn’t even know if my own mate would be happy. 

A mental tug of war of woulda coulda shoulda started in my head as I came back down and stayed on the second step to hug him, a burst of excitement somehow making me even more nauseated. 

I breathed him in, steadying myself.

“Dizzy?” he asked, and his voice brought a smile to my face I tried to hide cause it probably woulda looked stupid. 

“No, actually, I’m feeling a lil bit better.”

“Good,” he replied, drawing it out as he rubbed up my back. 

Oh, I wouldn’t tell him just yet. Not yet.

It wouldn’t be a surprise when I did, though.

First, however, I did my own snooping through my mother’s insurance cards to find how we were covered, and got myself signed up with the town’s resident OB GYN, Paul Flannery, an Omega. He originally thought I was there for an abortion, but after we got that cleared up. He told me I still needed to wait a while because right now was a crucial time. If I didn’t have the right hormones or if something happened, the pups could be lost like that. Of course, he didn’t call them pups, which was probably more accurate. Might have been a better way to think about it for the meantime. 

The weeks passed slowly. I think A.W. was suspicious. After all, when I did get morning sickness or… felt sick that way, he could tell. 

Something weird happened. It was the weekend. A new flurry of snow had just blown down from up north. And A.W.’s parents invited us out to a family dinner at Nino’s. 

It wasn’t great, but they had big tables and bigger baskets of chips I ate nervously as Lenora meticulously salted each one beside me, and A.W. shoveled salsa in his piehole across from me. 

My mother kept her mouth on her straw, like a pacifier, as our parents spoke. My father was ‘regaling’ them with tales of how he’d been in military school when he was younger– he’d dropped out. Mrs. Gibbs was just nodding along, a police officer herself.

Her gruff-sounding wife– shoveling salsa just like her son– asked, “So your father was…”

“An Alpha.”

“No. Was he military?” she clarified, elbows on the table, pushed up against her sweating red cup. 

Thus began a monologue about his childhood and when he was a baby. Thankfully it was interrupted by the server taking our orders. The chicken fajitas seemed the least offensive to me right now. 

But Lenora ordered shrimp enchiladas… Oh Geez.

My mother was finally saying something, stealing my attention from how A.W. and I were fighting under the table with our feet. “When I was pregnant with Milo, I craved spicy food, even though I hated it.” I smiled. I remembered this story. She’d thought I’d be the bane of her existence. Obviously I wasn’t.

But maybe now I was…

I looked out the window past A.W.. The snow had stopped. I wondered what I’d begin to crave… As long as it wasn’t anything weird like chalk or sand, we’d be just fine.

I was brought back by the toe of his shoe on my ankle and a soft smile over to me. I returned it, as incriminating as it was. How could he not know?

A.W.’s Alpha mom pushed her queso aside. “I think we’re lucky to be honest, that after two pregnancy scares, here we are, celebrating.”

Heat crept down the back of my neck. Surprise was reining me into the conversation as relieved laughter came from the parents and eyes were on me. 

I blinked and kept on blinking. 

I opened my mouth to respond–

Then stuffed it full of chips.

I think A.W. was frustrated with me for pulling him out into the snow-covered parking lot just as soon as our food got to the table. 

“What is it, Milo?” he asked, hands in his pockets.

I approached, eyes down to his shoes and the steps in the fresh snow, not muddied yet. “Were you relieved I wasn’t pregnant?”

The cold bit at my face, stung my eyes as I watched for his reaction. He smiled and shrugged. “I think so. I mean, we never really talked about what would happen if…” I think I must have been making some kind of face because his brow barely furrowed, his smile faded. “Did… Did you want pups? You seem kind of upset.” How did he not know? How couldn’t he smell it on me? Was it because we were together all the time? He took a few steps to me, cupping my face in surprisingly warm hands. “You seemed... I don’t know. You seemed to be looking forward to it when we–…” He cut himself off as I reached my hands up to his wrists, holding there.

I just had to say the words. 

I took a deep breath, and said on a cloud of warm air in the chill, “A.W., I _am_ pregnant.”

His eyes went big, but his face didn’t change. No smile, no frown, no anger, no embarrassment, no regret, no excitement. 


	2. Let It Be Okay

All he said was, “Oh.” How long was it gonna take for him to process this through his thick– “ _ OHHHHHH!”  _ realization seemed to hit him. He looked off to the side, suddenly confused, and I followed his eyes, biting the insides of my lips together. He stooped just a bit, coming closer to my face. “You didn’t tell me?”

“I just did, dipshit.”

“Not a joke, you’re pregnant? You’re…” His eyes went big again for a moment, and I had to laugh because this whole process was just ridiculous. He was supposed to be like, averagely smart, so–

My thoughts got cut by seeing a huge grin come to his face, looking down past his nose brushing mine, his cloud of words fanning against my mouth. “Milo, we’re gonna be–” The smile fell. “Are you going to keep them? Are you keeping the pups?”

I pursed my lips and his face grew even more serious. “I… I wanted to?”

He sighed, stepping into me, kissing me softly, and I could feel his smile against my mouth, infecting my own. “We’re gonna be dads.”

I nodded enthusiastically. Did he get how I felt? Did he get the clenching satisfaction that hit me every time I thought about it? About him and me and pups? If not, I had nine months to  _ make _ him get it. He was still smiling as he raised my left hand, kissing the ring he’d put on my thumb. I reached up, brushing hands across his face before looping my arms around his neck as he ducked down to scent me. 

My smile only grew as I picked up on just how enthusiastic his scent was. I think he did get it. 

My eyes closed as he slipped a hand down to my coat-covered stomach. I whispered, “There’s nothing there yet, idiot. The doctor said not for a few more months at least.”

“Soon, then.” He nuzzled at my cheek and I turned into him, looking up into his dusky blue eyes full of pride. I liked that. He looked up to the sky, then, pulling me closer as he began hurrying us back to the restaurant, muttering that it was too cold out here for me. And when we got in the first set of doors into the warm air, he bent to kiss the tip of my nose, making me laugh like a dumbass, and I’ll admit it, cause I pulled him down to kiss his mating mark next. 

“Shouldn’t do that here,” he sighed, giving me a suggestive look. Honestly, had it not been for our families waiting for us, I would’ve gladly gone into the bathroom with him and hashed it out. As it was, we returned, discreetly dropping hands to shove them in our pockets.

He didn’t go back to sit down, even though his tacos were sitting right there. Instead, he leaned around me to snag some chicken, hanging out behind my chair.

Perfect time, then.

I took a deep breath, and said it, even though no one was looking at me. “I’m pregnant.”

The nearly-empty restaurant got even quieter. The corner of my mouth lifted as I smelled A.W.’s pride. I was sure he was smiling. 

“Congratulations,” Lenora said unemotionally, patting my back with a brief nod.

All four parents were staring at me. Not us–  _ me. _

So it unnerved me when my father raised his murderous eyes to my mate behind me.

Slowly, they went back to eating, and though I was disappointed, at least there was no yelling. A.W. planted a kiss on my cheek before going around his sister to get to his tacos. 

I picked at my fajitas in the silence.

It surprised me when A.W.’s Beta mom, Terry, looked me in the eye with a firm kind of warmth, and told me, “You’re right to be happy about that, Milo.”

My father rolled his eyes.

I nodded to her in silent thanks.

My father was still glaring at my unbothered mate. 

It was hard to separate us that night, and A.W. ended up on my couch, where he and I had our heads leaned together despite my mother in the corner. I was playing with his knuckles, tracing letters into his palm.


	3. The Gang

Soon, though, sooner than I liked, he had to go down to Georgia to help his big brother with a rough patch and a move. How he’d remained out of the loop this far I had no idea, but by the time A.W. got down there, and I got his first call, hopefully telling me he’d landed safely. Instead, I was blasted by Kaden’s voice– his Beta big brother– telling me, “YOOO! MILO WHAT’S UP LITTLE DUDE!?”

“Uh, hey, nothing much I guess. How’ve–”

“I swear this family doesn’t tell me anything! Not only are you mated to my runt of a brother, but you’re pregnant, right?”

I rubbed my forehead, eyes big. “... Yeah.”

“Well congrats, man! I wanna be the–” He was cut off and I heard a scuffle and a growled argument before my mate got on the line.

“Hi, Milo. I, um… I landed.”

I puffed out an unamused breath. “Yeah, I reckon.”

“Kaden’s place is a biohazard right now, so I’m glad you’re not here.” I heard a protesting ‘HEY’ from the background. 

“Literally one or–”

“I just had to throw out eleven paper bowls with rainbowed dried milk in them. Eleven. And right now I’m looking at the pile of laundry sitting behind the lamp. Just… Isolated.”

Kaden rushed back to the phone, defending himself with, “It’s what happens when you have a breakdown, okay?!”

“Nah. Lenora would never,” he joked back, almost serious. 

It dissolved into more bickering between them, and I had to cut in with, “Hey… HEYYY! I’M STILL HERE, GIBBS!” Gibbs plural fell into grumbling silence.

After getting off the phone, it was time to prepare. I was having my friends over tonight for a sleepover. I’d break the news to them. It was nice to get my mind on happy things instead of the way my mother was blankly staring off into space, her legs tucked up underneath her. I think it was fine I was lifting the quilts, toting them from the closet upstairs to the couches downstairs. We could build nests. Watch movies. Eat. I even broke out the fancy paper napkins we had on hand for some reason, the black ones with gold. 

I went upstairs to pull on some sweatpants just before they were supposed to get here, keeping my phone in my hand. 

Declan and Abby were the first to get there. Declan immediately looked me over, gave me a good sniff.

“Well, hi, to you, too,” I chuckled. Abby went forward to give me a quick hug. 

Declan patted my shoulder, slipping on inside, sniffing around, asking, “You’re feeling better, right, Milo?”

“Yeah, sure,” I returned, spitting a bit of Abby’s straight black hair out of my mouth as she pulled back and made a beeline for the chips I had spread out on the coffee table. 

My father showed up not much later, rolling out like my Alpha friends posed me a threat. 

Abby looked up almost guiltily from her family-sized bag of Doritos. “Hi, Mr. McCoy…” He nodded to her.

I mashed my lips together, watching him carefully, until he looked my way. He locked eyes with me, and I felt I couldn’t look away. “Do you need something?” I went as far to ask.

“No,” he replied, looking between my friends. “There’s more coming, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, they’re all coming. Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you and mom when the pizza gets here.”

He didn’t reply to that and turned back around to retreat back to his room. 

“I’ll say it every time; Your dad’s scary as shit, even if he is short,” Abby huffed, licking cheese dust off her fingers.

I tossed her a napkin that floated through the air. “Yeah, y’all’re telling me.”

Declan crashed on the couch with a responding sigh. “And how’s A.W. doing in the biohazard apartment?” A.W. had been sending pictures to our group chat. Many featuring an overexcited Kaden making weird faces. 

“He’s fitting right in,” I snorted. “They can’t take showers until the plumber gets there to fix the water.”

Declan tossed a pillow to me. “UGH.”

“I know. I know.” I didn’t want to spill that if I’d been there, the smell would make me throw up instantly. 

Speaking of smell, when Hannah, Matthew, and Linus got here and broke open the sour cream and onion chips, I had to find a way to get rid of them– the chips, not my friends. 

Hannah and I got to work setting up some pillows for the skeleton of a nest. Linus helped, asking us where we wanted things. Declan and Matthew somehow got into a contest who could cram the most Takis into their mouths, Matthew making jokes about unseasoned chicken– his house was full of spice. Ronnie and Beaver got there at eight, when it was completely dark. Ronnie helped throw the blankets into the nest; he was messy, but somehow, things fell in just the perfect way.

I still hadn’t decided when to tell them, and I just watched from the kitchen as I dialed up Dominos, knowing they’d still love me and A.W. despite the challenges our pups might cause. I spaced out until the line picked up.

“Abby you can’t have extra cheese, you gasbag!” Ronnie crowed, nudging her with a foot.

“Lay off, man, I brought my pills!”

Matthew sat up straighter, “As a member of student government, I’m afraid I can’t condone the use of drugs. Give em up, Abs.”

Hannah raised her eyebrows. “You guys joke, but I swear…”

Ronnie replied, running a hand through his messy hair, strawberry blonde, “The bathrooms at school are like hotboxes.”

Beaver cocked his head. “Hotbox…?”

Declan threw an arm around him. “Buddy. Beaver. Hotboxes are when–”

Hannah interrupted, taking Beaver’s elbow, “Don’t corrupt him!”

I had to yell over them, “Y’all want Fanta or nah!?”

Ronnie’s eyes went wide. He threw up his hands. “FANTA!”

Linus reached over and lowered them for him. 

I wanted to tell them now…

I pursed my lips, shook my head slightly. No. Had to be an opportune moment. Not when Matthew was hooking up his console to my old TV and Abby and Declan were fighting over who got to be player two. Hannah had reserved player one since an early age, and they were too Alpha to make her relinquish it. 

I crashed over behind Ronnie on the couch. He rubbed my head absent-mindedly as a greeting before snatching up the player three controller. No one would fight an Omega for stuff like this. It was one of the few perks. 

“Smash or Halo?”

“Isn’t that version of Halo, like… really old?” Declan asked with narrowed eyes, the victor of the player two debacle.

Hannah cleared the air with some pheromones, shrugging.

Matthew started, “Well, actually…”

It was hard to tell who was interested in the semantics of the game. Beaver for one, was too sweet to divert his attention.

I was lounging, half on my friend, but as I settled down further, I caught a whiff of something not-Ronnie. 

Something Beta that wasn’t Linus, Matthew, or Beaver.

I came closer, asked quietly, “Dude, why do you smell like Beta?”

His eyes got big. “I– Uh–”

Since when did he lose his words like that?

“My sister’s friend’s in town,” he admitted with a wink. “She gets real affectionate.”

“You soak that shit up,” I huffed, somehow both relieved and disappointed. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be one of the only paired off friends. 

He stuck his head under my hand to prove my point. “Yup!”

After countless rounds of Smash, playing Cards Against Humanity, eating pizza, and drinking soda from the bottle, we settled down for a movie. Some of us didn’t ‘do’ horror movies (Hannah.) So we went for Zoolanders Two, needing something to laugh at. Something to critique. 

The sound didn’t cover up the sound of my parents talking over our leftover pizza in the kitchen. We were sprawled over the couches, on the floor, flopped over on each other, the Omegas fixing the nest compulsively every so often. Linus, bless him, was stuck between Declan and Matthew trying to poke each other. Then Matthew came after me and Ronnie next. Ronnie went off on him, scrambling over everyone to attack him with tickling, cackling maniacally. 

“There he is. The clown,” Hannah remarked dispassionately. It was said that Ronnie’s namesake was Ronald McDonald himself. Linus gently pushed the Omega away from Beaver, but he ended up rolling off the couch and onto Abby, who got startled enough to growl before realizing. Ronnie somehow, was content to lay upside down on the couch with Abby feeding him Doritos every so often. 

Me? I couldn’t pay attention to the movie. Beaver kept trying to hand me the popcorn bowl, so I took it, beginning to pelt Ronnie’s mini-afro with unpopped kernels. 

“Milo, you’re a little shit,” Declan laughed when one hit him.

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed with a sarcastic smile. 

Abby rolled up the chips, grumbling about getting kernels into them. 

The hours passed and before I knew it, it was past midnight and I was exhausted. Uncharacteristically exhausted.

Ronnie was fucking bouncing off the walls. Beaver was asking life’s deep questions, Hannah answering promptly and concisely. Declan was listening, critiquing, secretly googling the questions. Matthew was worrying about the next physics test while scrolling through our school’s meme page, and honestly, if that was what we were talking about, it was no wonder I couldn’t stay awake. 

Matthew said, “If she doesn’t give us a curve, I’m gonna riot.”

“Dude, you’re why the curve gets messed up!”

“You are, too, you know!”

“No way. Not recently.”

“At least you don’t kill your brain cells before every test like Pete. I swear he hosts a party before every test just to make himself feel nothing going into it.”

“I can’t drink anymore anyhow.” There it was.

It was late enough that he had to ask, “Huh?”

Declan suddenly bolted up, and I got startled as he started sniffing around me. “I knew it!”

“Wait, someone tell me what’s–”

Beaver asked quietly, “Milo, are you pregnant?”

I held up my hands, trying for a grin that didn’t come as easily as I’d hoped “Surpriiiiiise!”

Hannah squealed, lunged over Declan to hug me. “Oh my  _ goodness _ ; how far along!?” Ronnie was literally jumping up and down, his hands over his mouth. 

“Not very. I mean, you can’t see anything yet.” I pulled up the bottom of my shirt for good measure. My stomach was still flat. I was still thin, skin stretched tight as it was; I was not soft. 

“Does A.W. know?” Linus asked.

“Of course,” I replied with a laugh. “The family all knows. And shit, they were not happy.”

“But, I mean, you’re not aborting?” Hannah asked worriedly. I couldn’t tell if she was worried about my future or my pups with that question. 

“I’m not, no.” It wasn’t like it was an accident, anyhow.

“I got an idea, guys!” Abby warbled.

And that was how A.W. was texted the memorable picture of all our friends with a hand on my still-flat belly, each making a face like they’d been the one to do it. 

In the morning, another picture was taken with Matthew and Abby ‘holding back’ my short hair as I got through another bout of morning sickness. The rest made themselves ridiculous around the bathroom before they made themselves useful in the kitchen making themselves– and me– breakfast. 

Hannah and Beaver stuck with me while Ronnie pretended to direct kitchen happenings (It was Declan who did that). Hannah helped me get all washed up while Beaver grabbed some clean clothes, including a sweater that had used to belong to A.W. 

“Milo, has your mom talked you through any of this?” she asked, intrigued, but mostly worried.

“No, that’s not her thing.”

“Maybe you should see your doctor a little more often then? Or– I’m sure there’s a lot of online advice come to think of it. Don’t trust all of it.”

“I won’t. I won’t. To be honest–” Beaver came into the bathroom, then left so I could change. “Thanks, Beaves.”

“No problem, man.”

“To be honest, A.W. is really helpful about that.”

“I bet. He’s a good mate for you. Really caring. Even if its neurotic sometimes,” she admitted. I pushed her playfully. “I’m just saying, I know why Declan calls you two mushy so much.”

“I trust him more than my own family. If that translates into mushiness, then, shit, let it.”

“Are the pups going to be okay here, Milo?”

I stopped, adjusting my mate’s sweater as it fell over my chest. “... If not here, then they’ll be great at his place…” I looked at her as she pulled her long black hair up into a bun, her small fingers working deftly. “You know, he wanted to drop out. Get a job and a place for us. I told him no.”

Her eyes were serious, trained on me. “High School diplomas can get you a lot of places. I hope you’re going to finish yours, too.”

“I mated him because I was worried I wouldn’t be able to otherwise. The kinds of alphas my dad set me up with would have me stuck at home with no escape. Totally dependent. It’d turn toxic from the get go.”

She nodded silently. She knew what we were up against here in this small, closed off town. Which is why she was getting out. Hannah Nguyen was getting out. 

By the time we got downstairs, breakfast was almost ready, with Ronnie snatching bits of pancake and sharing them with Abby, the two of them hunched like rats away from the stove. Linus only watched as Declan failed to keep his temper with them. And failed to keep the spatula in his hand. I didn’t eat, and they tried to make me sit down, but I began to clean up, not worried, per se, but wearily anticipating my father’s loud disapproval. It was always something… 

Finally, as I was wiping my hands, turning to the next bowl, Beaver came around to my side, taking the towel almost hesitantly from my hands, and offering, “My turn? You’ve done enough,” very gently. 

So he and Declan kept me company in the living room in one of the nests while the others finished cleaning the kitchen.

I bent my head down to the dark collar of the fuzzy sweater I was wearing, trying to pick up some of my mate’s scent as I asked absent-mindedly, quietly, “Is there a time you guys have to leave?”

“Nah, I can be here all day if you want,” Declan offered, and I scoffed jokingly.

Beaver picked at his own collar, as if trying to straighten it, and I jerked up from smelling mine, ears burning. “I’ve got my chores. We’re digging up a stump today, you know? Not sure what– well I have ideas with what we can do with it. Artie wants to make it into a throne for Prince.”

Declan remarked, “That dog gets treated better than some people do.”

“Prince deserves it,” I added on, nodding to Beaver. “It’s like a cult of retirement, I guess.” I made a face, staring off into the distance. “Oh geez… Retirement. I’ve got to get a job first. Loads of jobs…” I scrubbed my face, prayed my morning sickness wouldn’t come back. I didn’t know how far my parents would go to help us financially, and A.W.’s parents probably had their limits.

Beaver patted my knee and I looked down to him on the floor. “It’ll be okay, Milo. One way or another, things will get done.”

I could only nod and hope.


	4. Moving In

A.W. came back in the middle of the next week, on an afternoon flight. That meant I got to go see him as soon as he got in. 

I waited in front of the Gibbs’ house, poking around in the slowly melting snow that always seemed to refreeze at night into ice. The thought of slipping on that ice and hurting myself or the pups made me anxious enough to sit down on their front step, knees splayed, elbows resting on top. 

A little while passed of looping thoughts of anxiousness before the car pulled up, and without even stopping, A.W. tumbled out of it, tripping, nearly dropping his backpack. 

Lenora was giving him an almost disgusted look in the seat beside him as he took a few hasty steps to catch up and shut the door before jogging over to me.

I stood just in time to catch him careening into me.

“Hi, honey, I’m home!”

I was shaking my head and laughing. “You’re acting like you’ve been gone for months!”

“It felt that way with Kaden!” He plopped a kiss on my cheek and dropped his backpack. “And cause I was worried about you.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I placated.

He ran his hands down my arms, getting a good look at me. Then they sparked. “That’s my sweater,” he accused gleefully. I rolled my eyes, fighting my smile. “So you did miss me, huh, sugarmuffin?”

I began pulling it off, saying, “Here you can have it back if it means that much.”

He helped it off, sniffing at the collar with a rumbled, “Don’t mind if I do.” His eye caught on something else, though. And before I knew it, he was very seriously pulling up the bottom of my shirt, my skin prickling in the sudden cold.

“Hey! Now’s not the–”

He put his palm over my stomach– no, lower than that.

“It’s a little swollen,” he managed to get out, almost breathlessly, his thumb beginning to rub along my flank; it tickled, but I couldn’t move away, so absorbed in watching his wonder. 

I hadn’t noticed it to be honest. It hadn’t been that way a few days ago. “Maybe I’m just getting fat? Breakfast?”

“No. No, it’s firm, Milo– It’s–” He broke off with a happy sigh and ducked down to try and scent me.

“Not here!” I hissed. “They’ll be coming around any second!”

“Just one–” He managed to swipe his scent gland across the side of my neck once hard before pulling back, leaving my skin tingling, maybe even burning, just like my ears. “I want you alone,” he told me, halfway growling, halfway whining. I laced my two sets of fingers with his. “I want to tell you everything that happened and hold you and–”

He stopped upon hearing the snow crunch behind us. Behind me.

I swallowed. 

We looked.

His Beta mom was coming from around the garage side, saying, “Let’s get inside where it’s warm, yeah?”

“Yeah,” A.W. replied.

I tried to take his backpack for him, but he refused me it with a look. “I’m not  _ that  _ pregnant. Come on, man, let me feel useful.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and I popped up to peck the side of his jaw where I could reach, slinging the duffel bag over my shoulder.

Inside, his Alpha mom began making coffee as we all sat down in the living room. It was painfully obvious how we wanted to be close. Convention’s sake kept us from touching. For now, just being next to him, hearing him speak live, and smelling him would be enough. Though the coffee smelled pretty damn good as it was. Cookies were to follow.

He related everything he and Kaden did to clean up the place, their debacle with the water company and the missed bills, and how he was so proud of his cooking for his big brother, who had been living off of sandwich meat and macaroni and cheese. 

His Beta mom sighed over her almost empty mug, “You were the only one he’d probably want to listen to…”

“That  _ was  _ the whole point of me going, yeah,” he chuckled. “He’s doing better. I’ve said it lots; there’s fight in him.”

His Alpha mom looked between the two of us, as her son wiped cookie crumbs off his chin when I made the motion. She simply smiled, got up, and suggested to her wife, “Hey, babe, we should go unpack.”

Lenora got the signal and left to her room without any kind of pretense.

And we suddenly found ourselves alone.

I looked both ways before climbing into his lap, burying my face in his neck, and taking a big breath. It had been odd to be without him. Not painful like in the early days when things were confusing, but empty and cold in a tiny part of me. My friends had thankfully distracted that feeling away from me. I knew I needed him and them now more than ever. 

He wrapped his arms around me and I began to scent him as he whispered how he’d thought about me and wondered about our pups and how Kaden kept calling himself Unckie Kaden, which made the both of us laugh. 

“Ronnie’s determined to be called Uncle”

“If he wants to be an uncle, he has to be called Ronald.” He sighed into my neck, nosing at my mating mark. “Remind me to chew out all our friends for that first picture of you all.”

“Aw, you didn’t like it?” I teased, pulling back, running fingers down the stripes in his hair that were growing out.

“I did. It was funny. And then suddenly I wanted to smack all those hands away.” 

“Jealous?” I pushed, taking his hand. He pushed it to my stomach. 

“Not anymore.”

I had to kiss him for that; I don’t make the rules. 

It got heavier. We were both thinking about it. He asked, nose to nose with me, “Hey, ya wanna…”

The unspoken seemed like a bad idea. I shifted. “It’s a full house, A.W. Shit can’t go down in a full house.”

“Your house?” he asked. “Anyone home?”

“My mom’s always home. But my dad’s on vacation leave, too, this time.”

I licked my lips, looking down at his. “We could–” I picked up his hand, turning his wrist over, rubbing it to my scent gland. “We could go to the train car? Bring a blanket or two? Some snacks? We don’t really need all that, but, like...”

“Just like–” I nodded. He didn’t even need to say it.

We jumped up in unison, each going a different direction. I went to the kitchen. I grabbed one of those reusable grocery bags and began stuffing water bottles and snacks. He went to the closet in the hall next to his room for some towels and blankets, and hollered down to his parents’ room, “Moms! We’re going out for a walk!”

I heard a faint, “Kay, sweetie!” as he stuffed the blankets in the bag and hooked it over his shoulder.

I pulled on my shoes, and he wrapped me in another coat hanging on the rack by the door, and we were off.

I guess for two young guys it had been awhile, so nothing took long the first time. I was covered in sweat, though, despite the cold, and he pulled me back with one, a towel on my rear, and two, a blanket to wrap up in. As soon as he was situated down there, he pulled me across his lap and we caught our breath in silence, watching the clouds of hot air get smaller and smaller. I was getting so tired lately that I was happy to just close my eyes and listen to his still fast-beating heart. 

“I missed you,” I told him.

He laughed, “After  _ that _ , you tell me you miss me? Are you sure you didn’t just miss getting fucked?”

I swallowed sleepily. “Come on, it’s better than that,” I pushed, “Don’t call it that.”

“Are you about to tell me you made love to me just now, here in this abandoned train car?”

“You know I don’t have the damn words for these things, so shut it! I love you!”

“Yeah, yeah, love you, too.” 

“A.W. you better say it like you mean it this time,” I threatened, opening one eye.

“I could say it the way you like,” he whispered in my ear, “I’m afraid that requires a little bit more effort. If you get what I’m saying.”

I turned to straddle him, and reached around to squeeze his rear.

“Woah there,” he laughed, lunging forward to kiss me.

When we were finally done, it had gotten colder, and the sun had gone behind the clouds.

I took him to eat at Woody’s since he was hungry after all that, and we sat there in those red-vinyl booths talking about everything and nothing important. 

At school the next day, it was like we hadn’t had any kind of reunion at all. He stuck to me like glue though our friends were greeting him, slapping his back and giving him quick hugs. 

I didn’t mind it; I know I should have, but I didn’t as he held my hand, my bag, and walked me to the first class of the day. Then the second. Then he picked me up for the third. And all the others after that. It seemed every chance he could, he was touching me in some small way. Nothing overt. Especially not with Declan there to tease us. It was usually just the side of his foot against mine if we were seated together. Or maybe our hands kept touching. Nevertheless, as I came back from the bathroom, only to find A.W. right outside, Declan pointed out once we got back to the lunch table, “Gibbs, you’re like a lost dog without your mate.”

“Oh, shut it,” he replied.

“You followed him to the bathroom and then remembered you couldn’t go in.”

A.W. tended to get angry easily. And with an Alpha being the perpetrator, this did not have anywhere to go but bad. I wish I’d had something sappy to say, but all I did was roll my eyes, and hold my mate’s hand under the table as I took another swig of milk from my carton, sending off some calming pheromones into the air. They got cut off abruptly when Matthew came lunging over my shoulder to start gushing– yeah,  _ gushing _ , the nerd–about the physics test we just took. 

The rest of the week, my mate seldom left my side unless forced or our parents wished it. I shouldn’t have been as uneasy as I was without him, and that was on me. But it was true what he said: the school felt crowded with everyone rushing around. Too many people. Too many scents. Just a little bit overwhelming. 

I was definitely not whelmed that morning-sickness followed me to classes. I usually didn’t throw up, but every second period, you could usually find me chewing on a peptobismol tablet. 

I was tired, felt sick all the time, and refused to think too hard about the future, and with my mate there, it was all doable. By the time the weekend came, the last issue seemed more manageable. We brought it up to my parents: A.W. wanted to move in.

“I know you don’t want him staying long term at my house,” A.W. pointed out, “And as the pregnancy continues, we need to be together, so doesn’t this seem like the better option?”

My father kept shaking his head. “No. No, you aren’t going to live here. You asked. I say no.”

My mother only looked on, damn her. 

I cut in again, asking, “What good does it do you to refuse? Huh?”

“I’m putting my foot down. You two are together every other hour of the day. There’s got to be some separation.”

“But why? We’re mates for crying out loud!”

“You’re kids,” he returned, venom growing in his voice, “Stupid kids who continue to make the worst mistakes!”

“What more could we do?!”

A.W. was angry. I could smell it. Still, it seemed he didn’t want to hurt whatever chances he had left as he asked, almost sarcastically, “Two heads are better than one, you know. Maybe then, mistakes won’t be made.”

My father pointed at him, getting really close. “You took my son. I won’t let you take my space.”

“He lives here, too,” he snarled, taking a step closer. “And every damn thing you try to do to help or to make yourself feel more in charge has done fucking  _ nothing  _ to help.  _ Nothing _ .”

“Get out,” he growled in response. “Get out of my house, you son of a bitch– I SAID GO!”

A.W. hadn’t moved a muscle. His eyes were locked.

I tugged at his arm to bring him back to me, prayed the calming pheromones I was the only one producing would diffuse him. “Babe, let’s go. Let’s just go.”

He shot his gaze to me, took a deep breath, and turned. I could see him fighting not to turn back around. 

I wrapped an arm around his back and looked over my shoulder, telling my parents, “I’ll be back before nine.”

As soon as we were out the door, he took the lead, stomping away through ice-covered snow banks, pacing, grumbling to himself.

I watched him go through his process, the anger, kicking the snow. Then the melting away, the breaths. I watched the frustration leave his body, smelled it leave his system to reveal the disappointment and anxiousness.

He came back to sit beside me on the porch step, and I leaned my head over onto his shoulder. 

“You were reasonable. It’s just him. It’s always been him.”

He nodded, let loose a massive sigh. 

I turned to him a bit more and rubbed a finger along his mating mark. He closed his eyes. I couldn’t let him smell out my nerves. His scent had to cover it up. If it didn’t, he might fight even harder to be here. Things might get even more messy.

He wrapped an arm around me, swallowed, and sighed again, suggesting, “Let’s go get some hot chocolate, hm?”

I nodded. We’d work it out. We had to.

As we walked, I quickly wiped away the frustrated tears he didn’t see. 


	5. Haul, Boy

About a week later, it seemed my family was finally ready to get involved. Or so I thought. Before he left for work on Saturday, my dad got me up– roughly, rudely– and handed me a chore list explaining to me while I was still half asleep and unable to form coherent sentences because of the onset of morning sickness: “Teenage birthing fathers have more responsibility than you’ve ever experienced. It’s time to prepare.”

It finally started to sink in as I popped pepto pills among my other vitamin supplements I was on as I read what was on the plate for today: he was trying to help, wasn’t he?

Part of me wanted to just say ‘fuck him’ and move on. Which is why I crumpled the list and stuffed it in my jeans.

Part of me wanted to follow the lead he’d given, follow it blindly because something so new had the potential to bring us together, which is why, once one o’clock hit, I began going about doing the chores in addition to my regular ones. Sure it was a little more than my regulars, but I finished just before it was time for ‘date night’ with A.W.. Which still was in the afternoon. 

As we strolled up and down the concrete driveways, slush lining them, surveying the garage sales in this neighborhood not far from either of ours, we looked for anything that we might use once the litter came along. So far, the doctor had said three were in there. A rather large normal sized litter. 

But three pups between two boys was going to be hell and I knew it.

Everybody knew it.

Between houses, between the tables set up with their plastic gingham tablecloths, we were noticed. By people we didn’t know. By people we did and had to make a choice to either ignore or greet. 

In some instances that day, by classmates and teachers.

We ran into Mrs. Buckham, our current History teacher, a middle-aged Beta woman with short, puffy brown hair that looked like it belonged in some Leave it to Beaver episode my mom always had running. Even her thoughts were black and white. 

I was picking up a set of measuring spoons for seventy five cents– SEVENTY FIVE CENTS– when A.W. was caught by her. Naturally, he put his best foot forward as he often did, as he needed to have people forget his dynamic. 

But he didn’t have to fucking speak to her first.

“Hey, Mrs. Buckham,” he greeted behind me, “See any good deals?”

I swallowed, shut my eyes. Who knew fending off disapproval could be so exhausting. As if he didn’t know she didn’t approve of his dynamic being with one of the main three… 

“A few, Alistair. Hello, Milo. And what are you two looking for today?”

She already knew my situation, so I didn’t even turn around to reply, “Baby gear,” rifling through some hand towels we could use as burp cloths. I wondered if he’d get angry at her… 

Then I realized I already was.

I turned my head to the side, so I could just barely see her, and cut off any further conversation with, “Happy hunting.”

As we walked away from that house with burping cloths and a few baby books, A.W. leaned into me a bit, saying low, “Are you okay? You smell… Chemically.”

I snorted, “Yeah cause I was cleaning today?” He thought he was so keen with that sense of smell, now didn’t he?

“Ohhhh– Cleaning what?” He delicately took the stack of cardboard-sheeted books from me– though they couldn’t have weighed more than three pounds. I rolled my eyes. “Stuff. Dad left me a list.”

He was quiet for a moment, and it was my turn to pick up anger from him, sitting there stagnant with nowhere to go. I slid my eyes to him, and he to me, and we said nothing more until we started at the next house over. 

At the end of the afternoon, we came away with burping cloths, books galore, a few baby toys, and even some swaddling clothes for under twenty dollars. Back at my place I sat in my nest and folded the fresh-washed cloth-items while A.W. found a place to keep the books. My eyes were glazing over fast, and I got sloppy just to finish and sit and stare at him, about ready for sleep to take me over. 

He was rearranging my bookshelf, but I was too sleepy to care about where he stacked what. He noticed me staring. I just blinked sleepily back. He got up off his haunches and came to me, saying gently, “You should have something to eat; it’s past lunchtime.”

“Nah, not hungry,” I sighed. 

“Maybe it’d give you some energy,” he pushed, touching my face for a mere second before dropping his hand. 

“Maybe after I wake up,” I sighed, giving into my body, flopping to the side across a massive, furry pillow. I pointed to him. “Don’t you go anywhere.”

He chuckled softly, “I won’t,” as he pushed his way into the nest, curling up behind me.

With that simple change, the rest of the tension left my body and sleep came soon after, worries pushed to the side for now. 

When I came to, I heard voices. One close, one far. At first they didn’t register as being real. That is until I realized one was coming from right up behind me.

I took a deep breath in, feeling the whisper on the back of my bent neck as he said, “I’ll heat up a plate if you leave it out; it’s fine.”

My eyes opened just in time to see my mother closing the door with the softest little clunk. I scrubbed a hand over my face. “What was that about?”

He landed a kiss on the back of my neck. “Dinner’s ready if you want to go eat.”

“Maybe in a little bit,” I mumbled, snuggling my face back into my pillow. But then I had to open my eyes again. “Fuck, I gotta pee.”

Monday had a throw up session in first period, a math quiz, an essay to finish at home among other homework, and, to top it all off, another list of chores.

I saw the list out on the laminate counter when I got home, and discontent stirred in my belly until my father got home from work and I could confront him with a, “What’s this?” my hand on my hip.

“Jobs,” he grunted, moving past me to the fridge for a can of beer.

“Last time you gave these to me on a weekend when I could finish them. It’s a school night.”

“Yeah, well you’d be up anyway,” he sighed, rummaging to get to his cans behind the butter. 

I narrowed my eyes. “Can’t do em tonight.”

“And what’re you gonna say when you’ve got three squealing pups screaming at you while you’re trying to finish some damn homework, hm? Can’t tell them you ‘Can’t do it’– Can’t feed em, change em, wash their asses.”

“It’s not–”

“Not to mention you’re bringing three new mouths to feed. You can’t get a job all knocked up like that, so the least you can do is haul some of that weight around here.”

It stung. It stung because I didn’t have a comeback yet. Because all I wanted to do was back away and let that smell of burnt earth coming from his obvious funk be far away. So I walked away. And I think if I’d made a stand there, in the beginning, I wouldn’t have gotten stuck in this mess. But he was right in some ways, and I was too caught up in the guilt of that to notice what was going to happen.


	6. Work Me To The Bone

Tuesday was dishes, cleaning out the fridge, folding clothes, and fixing a lamp.

Wednesday was– of course– dishes, cleaning all countertops, and spraying down furniture. 

By Thursday I didn’t know there was anything more for me to do. There was. He was getting too damn creative.

That weekend, instead of A.W. and I going out, I stayed at his place Saturday afternoon, tried and failed to get ahead on my homework, and fell asleep against him a good part of the time. Sunday night I went out with Linus, Ronnie, and Declan to try and forget about what would be coming my way Monday. We saw a movie, threw snow slush at each other, and did some delinquent-type shit that I’m  _ not _ going to share. It was an outlet. A wild outlet. But it did not help me at all on Monday.

Yet, somehow, the weeks were passing all the same. My belly was swelling up and some people even said I was starting to glow, although I think Abby– clueless as she was sometimes– was just trying to be nice when I was sweaty. It was still cold enough for me to hide the swell under layers of hoodies, but I gotta admit, the pups made a nice ridge for me to hold my snacks at lunch. At night, after talking to A.W. a bit, I continued on my war path with names, trying to come up with ones that held no bad meanings for me as I did chores. Nights were the only times I could complete them. Cleaning floors twice a week and fixing cabinet hinges gave me callouses. I wondered if my babies would feel their roughness, if they would care their father’s hands weren’t soft. Chores also gave me a period where I could be sick and get it out of the way for the next day. It was like that for a little while at least.

Come early March, with my litter of three still months and months from being born, the same routine was happening. 

The snow was all but gone, save for a few stubborn patches of ice, and despite the weather warming up, winter still hadn’t left for me. I still wore the huge sweaters to keep my fat belly inconspicuous. I still shivered because my mate was not there to warm me in my bed at night. I still had cold anticipation in my chest every day. Cause I knew once I got home, there’d be no rest for the weary. And my father was right in that it was similar to how it would be once the trio of pups got here. 

A.W., however, had the fires of hell in his chest. Anger at my family. It wasn’t nice to get a whiff of a burst of fury every time he could pick up on my fatigue. Course he followed it up with a croon and a nuzzle, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. And I didn’t know how to fix this. 

At nights, he’d sometimes call to check in, ask if he could come over. I’d pretend I wasn’t mopping, leaning the pole on my belly to try and pick up my phone, try and talk less breathlessly. I refused him every time. Maybe that’s where some of that anger came from, too. 

It was one of those nights with sweat dripping down my bare back, my wrists shaking, when he called. I grabbed my forgotten shirt, mopped the sweat off my face, and sighed before picking up.

“Hey.”

“ _ Hey, come let me in; I’m outside. _ ” My head snapped to the window, heart skipping, adrenaline sinking into me. “ _ Milo, I see the lights on. I know you’re working on something. _ ” I ground my teeth and hung up, stomping to the front door, letting him come in, furious with the way he took in the sight of me, furious with the way his anger was rising as he quickly shut the door to block the cold air from me. “Milo, what the fuck!?”

“I never asked you to come over,” I said, crossing my arms over my belly.

“You’re  _ dripping! _ ”

“Yeah, it’s called sweat. I’m not in lacrosse anymore, so–”

“Dude, it’s  _ two in the morning! _ ” he snarled. “Why don’t you–”

“Listen, I’d be up anyway!” I protested, getting in his face. “This isn’t about you so quit worrying and get your ass home!”

He advanced, smacking a hand to his chest “It  _ is  _ about me! You’re my mate, we promised to take care of each other and you’re working yourself to the bone for  _ what?!  _ Don’t tell me it’s not the third time this week you’ve done the floors! _ ”  _

“A.W., stay  _ out of it! _ ”

“Don’t you think it’s a little  _ late for that?! _ You got me involved the minute you asked me to mate you– To make sure you had a shot at a future you wanted!”

I grabbed his wrists, he grabbed mine back, just as angry– “If you think–”

I cut off. I could hear movement behind us, could scent an Alpha’s confusion that could soon turn dangerous. “Go,” I told him, more quietly. “You need to go.”

“No!” he scoffed. “Because as soon as I leave he’s going to be all over you instead!”

I couldn’t argue with that, and I didn’t have the time as my father snarled, “What the fuck is going on. Why is the Epsilon here?”

I didn’t flinch. I turned around. “He was just leaving.”

“Like hell I was,” he growled, eyes on my father. “He’s  _ pregnant _ and in  _ school _ – What kind of sick game are you playing making him do this?!”

I wasn’t able to produce any calming pheromones, not caught between them like this. Where was Mom? I looked around; shouldn’t she be coming out of the bedroom, too? Was she hiding? Should I join her? 

Everything in me said yes.

Suddenly, I was being shoved aside– by who, I couldn’t tell as they lunged at each other, and I was paralyzed, wet back stuck to the wall as I watched punches being thrown, watched my mate’s sharp teeth bared. I felt like I was going to throw up, smothered by the scent of aggression. “Stop it,” I tried, my voice weak in coming out. I pushed off the wall, shouting, “STOP IT!” pushing myself in between them, feeling a punch from my father’s side land on my shoulder, where A.W.’s ducked head had been. I put my back to him, pushing my mate towards the door. “GO!” He fumbled backward and I reached past to open it, the knob almost slipping from my sweaty grasp. Our eyes locked for just a moment once he was out, his heaving breaths clouding in the cold. Panic was still lancing down my strained back. “Go.”

And then I shut the door, turning back to my father, who was… already leaving. He was spewing curses I hadn’t heard in a while, nursing the side of his jaw, and maybe a little pride mixed with my confused hurt. Maybe just a little.

I left the floors, left the mop, ready to call it quits. But with my father in the kitchen icing his jaw, I was too uncomfortable to let it truly be finished. So I went upstairs for a break. And during that break, I cried. I couldn’t help it. 

My mate was still here. I could tell. Suspicions were confirmed when I looked out my window to see him circling the house. I could smell his anger from behind the glass: tires burning out, gasoline pooling. 

I watched him for a bit before texting: i’m alright. Really. Look up.

I saw him receive it and we watched each other from behind the window. He ducked his head. He was dialing, and I picked up. 

“ _ Milo, _ ”

“Yeah?”

“ _ Just… promise me you’ll get some rest. Maybe take the day off tomorrow. Sleep in. _ ”

I took a moment. If I could get away with it, it wasn’t a bad idea… “Yeah…”

I could see him struggling with his next words. “ _ I’m– _ ” He shook his head. “ _ It’s a– I’m– _ ” He snarled away from the receiver, finally blurting, “ _ Maybe you could’ve handled this before the pups, but they’re sucking as much out of you as this is. _ ” He gave a long look up at me, and there was something behind his eyes that reminded me of resignation. “ _... Can I come over tomorrow? _ ” I bit the inside of my lip. I wanted him to. I was still angry, still fearful, but I wanted him to. “ _ You can say no. _ ”

“Let’s just– … We’ll see.”

“ _ Okay. Good night. _ ”

“Good night.” He was already pulling the phone from his ear as I said, “I love you.”

I didn’t have the physical or emotional strength to go back downstairs and finish the job and the anxiousness from that plagued me until I fell into a fitful rest, sweating into my bed sheets. 

In the morning, I made myself go take a shower, sitting in the tub to conserve energy, and got ready for school same as always. 

My father wasn’t gone for work yet.

My mother was still asleep.

I nearly had half a mind to skip breakfast, but did make myself choke down some milk. It felt strangely heavy in my stomach. The backpack was too heavy on my back. The growing weight from my pregnancy was heavy on my front. I didn’t make it far before I had to sit down on the curb outside our neighborhood, sitting beneath a tree dripping with melted snow, putting my head in my hands. My back was sore. There was a growing bruise on my shoulder. I didn’t have a specific reason for why I started crying. I just cried. Nothing to be done about it; best to get it over with quickly. School had already started when I was finished.

I texted A.W. I wasn’t coming in to make sure he didn’t worry.

And then I walked the few blocks home, seeing my father’s car was gone from the driveway, quiet in opening the door. 

I threw off my backpack, kicked off my shoes, and pulled off my sweater before collapsing in bed again, a small comfort that I hadn’t been able to enjoy recently. Just for today, I’d take a break. 

And my family would never have to know. 

I slept like a rock until five when my bladder kickstarted me awake and I was forced to try and waddle and run to go pee. 

I completed the chores in record time and went back to bed soon after.


	7. Intervention

I did not expect an intervention the next day at school.

My carton of milk was sweating almost as much as I was with my friends circled around me, all their eyes on my sunken dark circles. 

Beaver was their main spokesperson, his voice gentle, his ideas making sense. “It’s just not healthy either way you look at it,” he pointed out, something pleading in his voice and the way he leaned forward. I cut my eyes to my mate with an eyebrow raised, his arms crossed over his chest, nodding approvingly from the back.

I raised my pointer fingers. “But the thing you guys aren’t getting is that this is basically what it’s going to be like once the pups come. It’s practice.”

“Yeah, but was it your idea?” Abby pointed out, scraping ice cream out of the crevices of her plastic container. 

Hannah spoke up again, saying, “It won’t be exactly like that. You won’t have to do housework like that– All you’ll have to do is feed the pups and not fail your classes. Everyone helps with all the other stuff. And, I mean, it’s not that hard to bottle feed a baby.” Declan made a face at that– like he knew any better.

Matthew didn’t give me time to retaliate, pushing his glasses up his nose, ready to lay down some hard truths. “Milo. The physical exertion you’re putting yourself through now isn’t at all what it’s going to be like to father your litter. If you keep this up, there could be consequences later like– like bone density for example. You’re not replenishing your–” I held up my milk carton with a glare. “Okay, but you know what I mean. You’re getting thinner.”

It was true. I could see my ribs clearly without stretching, could feel them from even beneath my sweaters. “Morning sickness is a motherfucker, okay?”

“It’s not just morning sickness.” He steepled his fingers. “Listen. Physically and psychologically, you are  _ not  _ preparing yourself for this the right way.”

I grit my teeth, but didn’t have any comeback for him. This wasn’t fair! I knew I wasn’t good at thinking about rebuttals on my feet, but he was on the debate team for Christ's sake! My frustration was mounting. I kept looking to A.W. almost instinctively, waiting for him to pull me out of this. He didn’t, and I shouldn’t have expected him to.

I was too tired to argue so I sighed, trying to placate the lot of them with, “ _ Fine. _ Fine. I’ll take it easy.”

“Will you?” A.W. asked. It wasn’t supposed to be accusatory but, dammit, it felt that way as I stared at him, and he back at me. 

“I’ll try.”

There was some slow nodding around the group. They were satisfied for now. Our mid-sized pack-like friend group knew how to hold an intervention, that’s for sure… 

I still couldn’t get past how A.W. had trapped me between a rock and a hard place. More than our friends, I was blaming him. 

After school, he caught up with me as I was headed out. It looked like he didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to fix my distress, so we just walked together. 

As we split after a ways, him to go to his neighborhood, I dug myself into a pretty hole by saying, “You can come over today. Later. Like at night.”

He nodded. “I’ll be there. Want me to bring anything?”

I didn’t know if he meant food, scented gifts, baby gear, or what, so I just shook my head. 

I thought I could get the list done by the time he got there. 

I was wrong.

I had to throw the 409 bottle into the oven I was cleaning, toss a rag into the sink, and run to the door. 

As I was about to greet him, I couldn’t help but look down to what he was holding. It was a long pillow that curved over one of his shoulders, yellow and plush with a purple patch at the tip and blue felted star that looked like the dingleball of a hat. 

“I, uh… I was gonna save this for whenever we had the next appointment, but I think you need it now.”

“It’s– What is it?” I asked, taking the massive thing from him. It had a face. A cute embroidered dot for an eye and simple curve for a smile, but a face all the same. 

“Pregnancy pillow.”

As it came near my face, I got a good whiff of it. I couldn’t help but smile over at him. “How long have you had it?” It smelled like he’d been scenting on it a while.

“Two weeks. I found a coupon in the mail.”

“Love that.”

My mate almost seemed nervous, wiping his palms on his jeans, attentive to me, but not coming too near. He was earnest in asking, “How are you?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”

He pursed his lips. “... You smell like cleaning–”

I rolled my eyes. “GEEZ, A.W.!”

“I’m just saying!” I’d just have to finish after he left. He wouldn’t know, then. He turned his head aside for a moment, expression intense. Then he turned back. “I’m sorry. Okay?”

I nodded, eyes downcast, taking his arm, drawing him in. 

He was looking around behind me. 

I hadn’t gotten to be this close to him and pay attention in a while. My eyebrow shot up as I saw yellow and purple discoloration beneath his jaw, hidden in the shadow. I dropped the pillow, mumbling, feeling too emotional, “Shit, A.W., what did he do to you…?”

“Hey.” I was running my fingers over the bruise, trying to find other lumps, my teeth grit in my mouth. He tried more softly, meeting my searching hands, holding them in his own, “Hey. I’m okay. It’s over. You know I left bruises on him, too.” 

I walked into him for a hug. I didn’t want him involved in how shitty this mess had become. My forehead thunked into his shoulder, and I huffed an upset sigh.

He rubbed the back of my neck and I could nearly start crying again.

Something had gone wrong in this plan of ours. It wasn’t our coupling. It wasn’t the pregnancy. It was something else I figured neither of us could touch. 

I turned my neck open to him and it seemed like he’d really been waiting days for this invitation. I think he had been. 

Maybe I teared up a little then. I’m not gonna admit that I did, but  _ maybe _ . 

“Have you had dinner?” he asked as he pulled away, leaving a satisfied breath on my skin. 

I wagged my head slowly, making a face, shrugging. “I mean I had cereal earlier.”

His eyebrows shot up. “How much earlier, dude?”

“Not breakfast, ya idiot. Like four.”

“It’s nine now. Dinner time.” I had my arm around his back and he had his around my shoulders as we went into the kitchen. “Did your parents make anything?” he asked as I came with him to the fridge, not wanting to let go yet. 

“Mom had a sandwich. Dad’s out.”

“You’ve got…” He made a face. “Pickled jalapenos...” Then he huffed, “Honey, why don’t you sit down and tell me what we’ve got to work with?”

Not a bad idea. I grunted as I hefted myself up on the counter next to the fridge, cursing as my jeans sagged uncomfortably. “This house is a mess without my sister; she’s the only functioning one.”

“You’re functioning,” he placated, squatting to see the hydrator. 

I nodded. “I’ve cleaned out the fridge recently. We don’t have much but condiments, oranges, and sprinkle cheese.”

“The pantry, then.” He moved on, pulling up the seat of his pants. 

“Uhh– Pasta. Microwave Rice. Tasty Cakes. Pudding cups. Potato chips. Split pea soup– six cans of it.”

He turned to me, hands on his hips. “No wonder you’re not eating! There’s nothing good!”

That brought a smile to my face. I  _ was _ hungry… 

He pulled his phone out, coming over to me, elbow leaning on my knee. “Chinese, pizza, or something else?”

“I’d eat some lo mein.”

“What a coincidence,” he pulled up the local restaurant, “so would I.”

We rationalized away the grease with all the veggies and meat in the mixture. And for once, I had an appetite. We curled up together on the couch with our boxes and put on a movie. I couldn’t have been happier, sandwiched between him and the pillow he’d gotten me to support my back, slurping noodles. I forgot all about the list my father had left me. I forgot about everything with a full belly and John Krasinski complaining about something on screen. I stroked my chin. I don’t think I’d look good with a beard– not like I could grow one well. A.W. had a little more luck in that department, but I didn’t think I’d like him with a beard either. 

I dozed off against him, waking up to hear A.W. offering my mother some Chinese food. When she left, I snuffled my way into his neck and fell asleep again. I’d missed him.

I woke up a third time at midnight. A.W. had switched movies, had begun Top Gun  _ without me _ .

“Asshole,” I mumbled with a growing smile.

“What’d I do this time?” he asked like he didn’t know whether to believe me or not.

“I like this movie. Too tired to watch it, though.”

“You sleep and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“NO!”

“Then suffer,” he chuckled. I took the remote and stopped the movie. “Hey!”

I blinked once. Twice. Then I got distracted by his face and I couldn’t even remember what I was trying to come back with. I leaned forward and kissed him. It felt like it’d been a while. 

“Fucking broccoli breath,” he muttered, close to laughing as we pulled away.

“Yeah, no shit,” I chuckled, flopping into him, head ending up in the crook of his elbow.

“Hold on, we weren’t done.” He leaned down and kissed me again. And again. And my arms were around his neck and his teeth were in my neck before I knew it, scraping over our mating mark gently. 

I gasped, hearing a loud creaking sound from the back of the house, trying to lift my head up.

He followed my gaze. “... Not here, then.”

“ _ Obviously! _ ” I rested back against him, looking up. My fingers brushed their way along that hidden bruise and down his throat. “Sleep over?”

We went upstairs, got ready for bed. I had enough of his clothes that he just changed into those. He had his own toothbrush here. I pulled on something comfy, fully expecting to lose it in the next ten minutes.

We resumed what we’d started downstairs. And, yeah, I lost the nightie.


	8. In My Stead

He was kissing up and down my skin, and I just got to lean back and enjoy for the meantime. 

It tickled when he kissed where my skin was pulled taut over my bump. And he reached below it. I couldn’t see what he was doing from over it, but I felt every change of pressure and grip, coaxing him into coming back up and kissing me. With him distracted, I got to give him the same treatment, through his pants first. One of his knees buckled as he groaned, and he pinched me for laughing before retaliating with putting good pressure on my mating bite. I was still laughing, just letting it all out, breathy as it was. 

I got him to take his clothes off instead of focusing on me and he ground himself down onto me, making us both lose thought for a minute. So we didn’t stop. Why would we?

It ended as soon as it began and I flopped an arm over my forehead as I caught my breath, looking up at him from the corner of my eye and the way his chest was heaving. And he looked down at me. 

“Satisfied?” I puffed.

“Hardly,” he returned, running an open hand down my front. 

The next time was more controlled, less spastic, on our sides facing each other. 

His eyes were still squeezed shut. I wiped some spray off his chest with a finger. They only opened when I yawned comfortably, stretching out my legs. He got us in the shower and I sat on the ledge to work shampoo through his hair, giving him all the hairstyles he hated: the classic bowl, the mohawk. 

I don’t know why that did it, but something about it reminded me that I had to finish my list for today. My scent changed and his keen sense picked up on it almost as quickly. “Pumpkin?” he asked, turning to me, hands on my knees. 

I worked my mouth to the side. “I– I’ve got some stuff I’ve got to finish up.”

His look was one of disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”

I sucked a breath through my teeth.

“Milo, you’re exhausted,” he protested, sitting up. I slipped down to sit in the tub with him. I made to hold my knees; couldn’t reach them anymore.

“I know,” I sighed. “I’ve got to finish the list, though.”

“You said you’d take it easy; you promised us,” he pushed, tucking wet hair away from his brow.

It was like the hot water was washing away my excuses. “I’m afraid if I don’t do them there’ll be consequences. I’ve essentially been kicked out twice.” I rubbed water off my face, huffing, “I need to stay good. I need to keep doing what he wants me to.”

My mate sighed his own sigh, put a hand on my shoulder. All there was was the sound of water hitting our skin for a good minute. “I’m sorry I’ve got you in this position. If you weren’t pregnant things would be easier, wouldn’t they?”

It must’ve been instinctual for me to refute that. By all accounts, he was right, but it didn’t  _ feel  _ right. Besides, I’d been a willing party, maybe even the instigator. So I shook my head. “We didn’t abort for a reason, A.W.. We’re not going back on that reason now.” I bit my lip hard so as to keep myself in check. “I just– I need to go do my chores.”

“Those shouldn’t be the things making you feel safe here,” he replied, tone dark. He didn’t argue with me any further, though, just pleaded with me, “Don’t worry about them for tonight.”

I didn’t have it in me to fight the suggestion. So we went to bed. I brought the moon-shaped pregnancy pillow, pushed it close to take some weight off my front. I reached a leg over it zto stick close to his. 

I counted to sixteen and then I was out.

Until I had to go take a piss. 

Growling under my breath, I hefted myself up away from A.W.–

I balked at the sight of the pillow for a second, realized that it was not my mate I was smelling, but the pillow he’d scented. He was not in bed.

I heaved myself out of bed with a bounce, kicking aside the sheets, and was forced to make a bathroom trip before going to look for him. He would have left a note if he’d gone home, right?

It was past two and I didn’t want to call out for him for fear of waking my parents. I crept around upstairs before I picked up on the shuffling coming from down.

Slowly, I descended the stairs, head craned out, looking around.

There he was.

He had the steam mop out and was doing the kitchen floors. I couldn’t tell if it was a fond sight or if my heart was breaking as I padded across the living room to him. He had his earbuds in, mouthing along words to something. My toes got wet crossing the floor to get to him, and when I popped up beside him, his eyes got big. 

He squinched his lips together and took out his earbuds, whispering, “You should be asleep.”

“So should you! What’re you doing?”

He reached down to turn off the steam and leaned the mop against the counter. “You wouldn’t have asked for help on this. You were so worried I–” he shrugged. He picked up the list. “I’ve only got the mirrors left.”

I took the list from him, put it back on the counter. I went on my tiptoes, brought his face down to me and kissed him. His cheeks and temples were clammy. 

He sighed, nodded without a word, and tugged me all the way back to my too-small bed.

“I want to stay with you,” he said, nuzzling in at my face.

“You will,” I told him sleepily, confused.

He smiled, brushed a thumb along my brow. “I want to move in.”

I looked up at him. “Then do it.” Surprise crossed his features in the dark. “Do it,” I repeated, more power behind my words. 

He fisted a hand in the front of my oversized shirt and leaned over my pillow to kiss me. “Then I will.”

“Good. We’ll just avoid my dad. Mom doesn’t do anything. It’ll be like the place is ours.”

“Our own place, hm?” he hummed, his fingers relaxing in my shirt.

“This is what it was supposed to be like all along,” I droned, eyes falling shut. “You and me against the world. No one taking you from me.”

He rubbed a hand up and down my shoulder, whispering, “Sleep well.”

Even though I was still tired in the morning, I had something I hadn’t before. Now I think the only thing I can call it is hope. 

After school the first thing we did was go grocery shopping, much to my mother’s surprise. She was turning into even more of a shut in than Lenora. From there, though, she took it over, making us dinner. 

When my father came home, he ignored all three of us, and that was the best outcome I could ask for.

Over the weekend, we employed Declan and Abby and Linus to help us move some furniture upstairs from A.W.’s place. We pushed a sofa inside, attached it to my bed with lots of pillows. We set up the bassinet, put up the dividers. We got a rocking chair in the corner, too. 

A routine soon began for the two of us cohabitating, something we should have been doing ages ago. We got out the door just in time to walk to school, ate breakfast with Abby in first period (she wasn’t in our class but wanted breakfast so she slipped out), went through our classes normally, Matthew helped me begin to pull my grades back up while A.W. waited for me (though he was secretly going home in the interim to do the chores that were supposed to be mine), we ate dinner either alone or with my mother, and then we’d take a short nap. I’d do the chores while he did his homework, and if I refused to let him help me once he was done, he put on the TV and just sat with me. 

My father kept to the shadows of our house, turning into something nocturnal aside from work. We kept him and A.W. physically apart. When they did have to pass each other, the air in the room turned sharp with aggression. 

It was the best set up we’d ever had. And it continued that way as the weeks passed on by. My belly seemed to be growing rapidly and it felt like I was already well into my third trimester if I’m being honest. Of course, it had to be because I was having triplets: a litter of three. For Omegas, multiple births were more likely than in Beta Females or– when they could– Alphas. With more routine in our lives– with less fear in mine– I got to enjoy what I could from the anticipation of them being here. I wouldn’t consider myself a terribly motherly or fatherly guy, but they were mine. I’d love them in my own way to the fullness of my heart. Of that I had to be sure. To be honest, I’d tell A.W. at night when he coaxed me into these deep discussions that as long as I wasn’t following in my parents’ footsteps– two opposite ends of the bad parenting spectrum– I’d be fine. We’d be fine. 

I was wrapping Matthew’s present for his birthday party on the weekend, getting all the corners and edges pressed correctly, as A.W. fixed one of my stuck drawers in my closet. “I know they’re going to be grandparents and all, but I like your parents better for that role,” I announced, brushing paper scraps off my shorts. 

“Would it be awful for me to agree?” I snorted. “Tell you what, Lenora’s gonna make a great babysitter.”

“Families are kinda like built in babysitting support.” I pushed the heavy package away from me on the carpet, picking up the paper shreds. “I think my sister would love to babysit with her.”

“Really?”

“I think she’s kinda into her.”

“Seriously?”

“I think. She kept doing that thing last time she was in town– that–  _ hinting _ . Like she’d flirt  _ about  _ her to me when she wasn’t even there.” He just nodded. I rolled to my knees. “And you’re  _ okay with that? _ ”

“What my sister does is her business. She’s dated a couple Betas and one Alpha, but that was before she came home.”

I made a face. “Blech. I don’t wanna think about Cat being lovey dovey.”

He turned around, fluttering his lashes. “Like this, Honey-poo?” My eyes narrowed. I couldn’t tell if I hated it, liked it, or was going to laugh. He crooned and my shoulders relaxed. “My sweetie-pie muffin-bear.” He clambered on over to me on the carpet and I smiled as he scritched just under my chin. “You’re absolutely  _ glowing _ , sugar-whoompie.”

“Whoompie?!” I cackled, finally breaking into laughter.

He made a face like he’d tasted something bitter. “Never let me do that again. Even for a joke.”

“Oh, God, if Declan had seen that–”

“Declan’s just sensitive, okay?”

“Yeah, poor, lonely Alpha that he is,” I joked, rolling my eyes. I swiped a finger across my brow. “I’m  _ sweating _ , A.W., not glowing.”

“Yeah, same thing,” he responded noncommittally, going back to his drawer. 

“Wait, help me up?”

He came back to me, standing to pull me up. “Geez, you’re huge…”

“Yeah, no shit,” I puffed. 

“What trimester are we in again?”

“Should be first chunk of second, but I dunno, man.”

“One might say…  _ chunky _ .”

I stuck my finger in his face. “No, don’t start– Don’t you start– A.W. I swear–” He was just grinning, knowing he’d already won. He knew I hated the moto moto meme. After my friends had started singing it to me in the halls feeling up my belly and dancing like birds on crack I hated it  _ so _ much. 

Time to leave the room and his awful smirk. “Where’re you going?” he called after me.

“Away from you, idiot!”

To go wipe out the sink, in reality. It was late enough that everyone should be done eating. Then I’d finish the last thing on the list that A.W. hadn’t managed to do: changing the smoke alarm batteries in the guest bathroom. 

I tried to ignore the pain in my belly– growing pains from the womb expanding. 

I muttered to the pups as I got out the suction cup stick from the garage, “I know you’ve got to grow big, but ya think you could go a bit slower?” 

The pain still hadn’t left me by the weekend, a ‘persistent’ almost burning type of stretching pain. It was manageable enough. We continued as usual, reminding ourselves that we had our appointment with Dr. Flannery this weekend.

But first we’d get wasted.

As wasted as honor student, student council member Matthew would let us.

And for me, no drinking, but oh well, at least I could watch everyone else get shit-faced. Which no one did, but still.


	9. Look at The Lump

When A.W. and I were received in, Linus and Hannah were already there setting up twister. By nine we were all there. Matthew’s mom supervised the beer intake and provided spicy chicken and veggie kebabs with chutneys I’d never heard of as we lost our minds over stupidly simple games.

Twister was particularly challenging. 

Ronnie was having too much fun announcing the colors. “Right hand green.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I cussed, trying to reach around my own leg and Declan’s fat head, my belly pushed into Beaver’s side. A.W. was just laughing and Abby was circling the lot of us, poking. 

“Why hasn’t Milo lost yet?” she asked.

“Cause I’m not a quitter,” I heaved.

“Left hand blue,” Ronnie crowed, his tongue between his teeth as he grinned. 

Declan gave the easy grab to me, having to reach over Beaver’s ass. “FUCK!” 

Hannah was the only one coaching me on, making sure I wasn’t going to land on my belly or anything. “Okay, Milo, breathe.”

“Sounds like he’s going into labor,” Linus giggled from over his bottle of Shiner.

“Looks like he might as well be,” Abby replied, poking at the side of my overgrown stomach.

“HEY!” I yowled.

A.W. nearly started up at my response before good sense told him we were with friends and he relaxed again. 

Hannah frowned. “It looks… lopsided. Is that bad?” She looked over her shoulder. “Where’s Matthew?”

“In the kitchen pinching off pieces of the pie crust,” Abby replied. “His mom kept hitting our hands with a spatula.”

“Poor baby,” Linus cooed at her.

“I know right,” she replied.

“Matthew I need your opinion!” Hannah shouted.

Ronnie called out the next direction. “Right foot blue!” 

There went Beaver, tripping over Declan’s ankles, almost bringing down the pair of them. Declan was starting to sweat under the weight as Beaver called himself out, slinking away from the mat where the losers comforted him. “You wanna go, man,” he snarled over at me, taking this a bit too seriously.

I replied, “Sure,” between gritted teeth.

“Beaver, spot me; feed me some chicken I need protein.”

Beaver held up his kebab stick. “I only have peppers left is that okay?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever, just feed me.”

A.W. was looking between my belly and my face with a worried expression, but played it off, stroking a finger down my cheek with a cooed, “Want me to feed you, too, Pumpkin?”

I glared at him from under my armpit, voice garbled. “Gibbs, don’t you even think about getting that stick in my face.”

Matthew came into the scene with crumbs on his face, asking, “What’s up?”

“Milo’s got a lump on the side–”

“That’s his  _ litter _ ,” Linus cut in. 

“NO!” she snapped. I jumped as she put a flat hand onto my side. “Here. It’s like a protrusion. Are the babies that big yet?”

I could tell Matthew was frowning from how he pushed up his glasses. “... Should we ask my mom? She’s not an OBGYN, but–”

Ronnie, oblivious, asked, “Uh.. Can I call the next one?”

I untangled myself, more concerned with what was going on with my womb. 

Declan shot up with a hoot, running around the room once before crushing a can of beer into his mouth and raising his fists in victory. No one paid him any attention. 

I pulled up my t-shirt to show the abnormality, telling him, “It does hurt. It’s hurt for a couple days now. I looked it up and thought it was just growing pains.”

He frowned. “The babies aren’t that big yet, so one of them can’t be kicking out like that, no… I don’t wanna scare you, but, like it’s better to be safe than sorry. When are you going to Flannery?”

I locked eyes with my mate. “Tomorrow.”

“That’s perfect.” I bit the inside of my mouth. A.W. crawled over to me, almost beginning to croon. Abby started one up, but quickly cut it off. “Hey, hey, it’s fine. It’s probably nothing. Probably just growing pains, right?”

“Right…”

Still, the rest of that night, I was fairly quiet as the pain mounted– not so much in intensity, but with how I was able to bear it. More often than not, a friend was massaging my back as the night progressed. Matthew even had his parents check on me, his mother not able to diagnose anything life-threatening. 

As we sat on the roof that night after birthday pie, looking up at the clear sky, I couldn’t shake that awful feeling of anticipation, like a peppermint gone sour on your tongue a while after its melted. 

Instead of sleeping over with the rest of them, I asked A.W. to take me home. I couldn’t sleep anyways, too nervous. It broke down my tolerance for the pain, so we stopped a few times on our walk. 

He legitimately asked me, “Do we need to get you to the hospital?” when he helped me off with my coat, only to see my shirt soaked through with sweat.


	10. Doctor, Doctor

I braced an arm on him. “Let’s talk to my mom.” 

I felt like a little kid again, waddling into my parents room as they lay asleep, going around to my mom’s side of the bed and poking her until she came awake with a too loud breath and a croaked, “Milo?”

“Mom, I don’t feel good,” I hissed, crouching, stopping for a moment because the change of position seemed to make it worse. She slipped out of bed, put on her robe, and helped me out to the couch where my mate waited. “It hurts and Hannah said she saw a lump– look.” I pulled off my shirt, taking her hand and placing it over the bump.

“How badly does it hurt?”

“I– I dunno maybe I’m just tired– A four and a half when I’m paying attention to it.”

She looked at me a long moment. “The appointment is in the afternoon, right?”

“Yeah…”

“First thing when they open, we’ll call and reschedule for earlier, see if they can squeeze you in.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

She looked to my mate. “Can you distract him? Maybe a bath would help the ligaments?” That’s what Matthew’s mom had said, too. She looked to me. “Try to sleep, too, if you can. Maybe you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay. If it gets really bad, come get me. I’ll drive you.”

To the hospital. “Okay.” To A.W. as he guided me upstairs, I said, “These don’t feel like contractions. I’m not  _ contracting _ .”

“You called it steady. Persistent.”

I sighed in reply. 

He got me into a lukewarm bath and started massaging my tired muscles to the backdrop of his croon. But he couldn’t get to where it really hurt. After that, we sat in the nest I’d made using my bed, his couch, and a shitton of pillows and blankets (including our friend ‘Moony’). He was stroking my head, tangled up with me and my pillow as we watched the Office mindlessly, the phone balanced in the crevices of the nest, his croon not having stopped.

“Babe, why don’t you get some sleep?” I muttered, rubbing a hand over my face, my voice sounding hoarse and gruff.

“Worried. Can’t sleep,” he shot back. He quickly followed up with, “Not that we have to really be worried. We  _ are _ seeing Dr. Flannery tomorrow. We  _ are _ getting the appointment moved up.” I leaned my head back against his chest, exposing my neck and he shifted to begin to scent me, continuing, “Only a couple more hours. It’s three now. They open at eight. We’ll probably get in soon after that.”

I nodded against him, breathing him in, and pulled his hands over my stomach to rest there, praying to whoever was listening that we’d all really be okay. Me and my three stooges. 

We faded in and out of sleep until my mother came in with the light, telling us, “Dr. Flannery’s gonna get there early to see you. It’s time to get dressed.”

That made my adrenaline kick start even more for some reason, and once she’d stepped out, A.W. scented me feverishly in an attempt to calm the both of us, his quiet croon no more than a rough hum at this point. 

He helped me on with some joggers, went as far as to pull the very shirt over my head before getting himself ready.

I held his hand in the car. I held his hand in the waiting room. 

You know how they say parents have an instinct when something is wrong? I think I was beginning to realize something was wrong…

Dr. Flannery came out to us almost as soon as we’d sat down, sending out a wave of calming pheromones as he took us to a room, easing our minds with gentle conversation that meant nothing, and he and A.W. both helped me up on the bed.

“Now, you say you’ve been experiencing pain,” he began, as he felt with firm presses around my swollen belly. “Is it just on one side? Is it all over?”

“I can feel it all over, but it feels… stretched on that one side. That’s kinda a more recent development.”

“Alrighty. Well I’ll have a look with the ultrasound and we’ll see what’s going on, because you’re a bit large for only twenty two weeks.” 

My mother was biting her lip nervously as he spread the gel over my belly and got the machine booted up, though he filled the silence with calm nonsense. 

He talked us through what he began to see.


	11. Ablation

“Okay. Where I used to be able to see all three clearly, I’m seeing one much more than the others. They’re kind of in largeness order, you see that?” He skimmed over the shapes, but to me, that’s all they were, the shapes of my pups I couldn’t make out. “This one here sandwiched behind is the perfect size it looks like for their age. The issue is with the other two pups. Do you see how one’s bigger than the other by a longshot? There’s an increase in the amniotic fluid, too, and a decrease in the other. One of these babies is dehydrated. The other has too much fluid.” He looked at my belly. “That discrepancy is probably what you’re feeling.” He took a breath. “I’d like to do a doppler test, check the heart rates just to be certain, but I think what we’re looking at here is TTTS: Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome.”

Cold crawled over my skin, panic flooded the room. I didn’t even know what that was yet.

He sent out even more of a blanket of pheromones, saying immediately, “It can be treated. They can go in and do damage control.” He began wiping off the gel and I pulled my shirt down, numb as he began to explain. “What’s happened is none of your fault. It just occurs sometimes. The blood vessels from each baby have gotten crossed because they share the same placenta, see? So one baby is getting too much blood, which translates into urine due to the liquid intake, making that amniotic sac bigger. The other baby is not getting enough blood, meaning its possibly anemic, and we could see it was dehydrated.” He rolled back to address all three of us as I sat there in cold shock on the bed. “The risks involved here are usually with the recipient baby– too much blood means it has to all go somewhere, right? And fast. So heart failure is a possibility.” He took another deep breath. “There are two ways to fix this. Something called laser ablation, where they laser the crossed blood vessels, and break the connection between the babies, making sure each gets proper blood supply. This is probably what we’ll end up doing. If things seem too dire, which I can’t say for sure right now, then what might need to happen if you elect to do so will be cord coagulation, where we terminate the supply of all blood to the donor pup so that the recipient pup isn’t overloaded.” 

My head was spinning with all the information in that white, sterile room.

A.W. stood, sat on the side of the bed beside me, looking just as shell shocked, and of course, my mother wasn’t of any help. 

“What I can do for you now is reduce the pressure by taking out some amniotic fluid. That’ll give you time to get the laser ablation.”

I nodded immediately. “Where do we get the ablation? Do we do it here?”

“I’d recommend doing it in Philly. They have their fetoscopic doctors there. In fact, I’ll refer you there hang on.” He scribbled down his notes on paper, then sent it through an old fax machine it seemed all in a moment’s notice before typing, printing, and handing my mother a piece of paper I couldn’t concentrate on. 

“When do we go?”

“It’s not a matter of hours urgent, but I’d go as soon as you can– within the week at least.”

A.W. took the paper from my mother to study as Dr. Flannery left the room to prepare for the amnioreduction.

I sat in the silence, staring at the tiled floor. 

My mother eventually came over, began stroking my arm.

A.W. kept sighing, trying to keep himself in check. For me.

Dr. Flannery returned in what seemed a short time, attended by Nurse Kaz, bearing a giant needle on a paper-lined tray. 

“Oh fucking hell,” I muttered, eyes going wide.

A.W. began to croon. 

Dr. Flannery smiled at the lot of us. “I can tell you something nice so this doesn’t seem so bad.” He began spreading gel over my belly again, distracting me from the nurse hooking up the needle, preparing a hanging container. I thought I saw a face as he swiped over my womb. “Your litter are all boys.”

A sigh whooshed out of me that I didn’t even know I was holding. 

I grinned over at A.W. and he couldn’t help grinning, too. 

“That’s gonna be a handful,” my mother sighed, but had her own smile on her face. 

Dr. Flannery glanced over at her, contributing with an easy laugh, “I think they’re handfuls whatever combination they are.” And it made me laugh, too. God, I loved this doctor. 

After all the preparations, A.W. corralled my face in his hands, leaning a bit over me to block the sight of Dr. Flannery swiping around, holding the needle, trying to find a good spot to put it.

“Okay, one, two, three.”

I scrunched my nose at the feeling of the puncture, my teeth grit hard in the back of my mouth. A.W. even dared to give me a little kiss high up on my cheek before daring to look down. “Do you want me to keep blocking?”

“No, it’s okay,” I hissed. I could see them hooking the tube to the container beside me, and eventually, could see the liquid puffing out, a dingy-looking clear fluid.

“That’s baby’s pee!” Dr. Flannery announced happily. 

I groaned. “Nasty boys.”

A.W. laughed at that, and it made me feel better for the time being. Though, as soon as we were out of the office, my belly considerably less swollen and achey, and I got to read the referral to the hospital to Dr. Nahia Khalek, all the anxiousness came back.

When I looked over at my mate, though he was holding my hand, he was on his phone, looking up all he could about TTTS. 

I was thankful he took the initiative in updating our friends.

When we got home, my father was still there for some reason. Waiting for us. 

I was expecting the worst, and even let A.W. go in front of me.

“Well?” he asked, standing up from the kitchen table.

My mother replied, “There’s a complication. TTTS. One of the babies is getting too much blood and Milo’s been referred to the Children’s Hospital in Philly.”

He looked past my mother. “But they’re alright? You’re alright?”

I nodded. “For now.” I addressed my other parent. “I want to go as soon as possible. I want to leave today or tomorrow.”

I was forced to wait until the next day, though. For flight reasons. For scheduling the procedure. So I sat in my nest holding my pillow as I listened to A.W. emailing teachers, calling the school, explaining why we needed an extended absence. I sat and watched as he began to pack and only then did I get up, working silently beside him. 

The procedure when we looked it up wasn’t supposed to last long, but I’d be kept in the hospital for observation for a couple of days.

In the morning, the same trio got in the car and drove the hour and a half to Pittsburgh to catch a flight lasting another hour and a half to Philadelphia. My mate scented me discreetly throughout the trip, sometimes touching my belly lightly. We stuck close to each other as my mother– somehow without breaking– handled the paperwork, with a pointer from us here and there, to check into the hospital. 

After preliminary testing, kind of like a school physical, we got checked into a room. It was a spacious one, not painted in child-pleasing colors and shapes, but clean and simple nonetheless. 

It felt like I was having trouble focusing on the big picture of what was happening to us. I could only stare at the foot of my bed and the little clip as my mind hung onto fragments of the diagnosis. I kept staring until our doctor walked in.

She was a Beta with long dark hair and greeted all three of us with an easy smile and a handshake. I tuned out all the pleasantries. “We’ve gotten your file from Dr. Flannery. So today’s your evaluation. That’s going to include an ultrasound, a fetal echocardiogram, and an amniocentesis to check for genetic abnormalities. By the end of today, we can say definitively whether or not two pups in your litter are experiencing TTTS.”

“What else could it be?” I asked, leaning forward, brows set.

“Depending on the direction of blood flow,” she explained, “It could be an intrauterine growth restriction or something else. That’s why we’re here today. Your doctor requested you stay the night, so in the morning, we’ll meet and decide our best course of action quickly. Is that alright?” I could feel my mate’s eyes on me. I just nodded. 

Over that afternoon, Nurse Jake ushered us from room to room, test to test, with these long stretches of waiting and silence in between. A.W. had to block the view of the needle going into my belly again, though they took out significantly less fluid. By the end of it, we were back in the room, my head resting on his shoulder as we flicked through the TV channels and he encouraged me to eat some of the fruit cup left on my dinner tray because apparently my BMI was low for this litter, go figure. My mother kept her silence, kept out of it. I didn’t know if that was better or worse than becoming involved. I didn’t have much space to think about it anyway. I was occupied with keeping myself calm, trying not to let my mind jump to the worst possible thing. 

A.W. was right. I did need to eat something. I balanced the tray on my stomach and ate the watery, bland stuff I didn’t even bother identifying. It was only fuel. 

He nuzzled into the side of my face happily when he saw my efforts, and I tried to offer him a bite, but he shied away with his tongue out, saying, “Blech.”

“Yeah, real encouraging, babe, thank you,” I retorted. 

“Want me to go out, get you some real food? Downtown Philly’s got everything.”

“Nah.” While that did seem tempting compared to the type of stuff we had in our pocket of a town, I didn’t want him to go. I just really didn’t want him to go. Not with the prognosis we’d gotten today. 

It was TTTS. And the two babies affected weren’t doing well at all.

Adrenaline kicked in me and I rubbed anxiously at my belly, heaving a troubled sigh. 

“I want to have the ablation done as soon as possible,” I told the both of them, my mate and my mother in the chair. “If they can do it tomorrow, all the better.”

A.W. shifted, sighing, “Agreed.”

“The statistics are good,” my mother said mildly, with her stack of brochures she was reading out of. “Eighty five percent chance they’ll both make it.”

“I’d rather it be ninety nine,” I grumbled, shovelling more of that crappy food down my gullet, hoping it’d stay in my nervous stomach. I don’t even remember what it tasted like. 

“One hundred,” A.W. corrected me. “No one percent to contend with.”

He was right. As it was, there was a fifteen percent chance both babies just wouldn’t make it. If that happened, the trauma from losing both, trying to get both out, would put the third at risk. The chance that only one wouldn’t make it was even smaller.

I thunked my head back, stretching up. “I don’t know how I’m going to sleep tonight.”

A.W. leaned his head over on my shoulder, switching the channel away from a commercial. “If we don’t, we don’t.”

I pursed my lips, watching my mother, watching the light from the TV hit all the sallow places around her eyes that matched mine. “Mom, are you sure you don’t want to get a hotel room?”

She looked up, asking, “Would you like me to?”

“I mean– Not for my sake, but– Are you gonna sleep in that chair?”

“Maybe I will.” The corner of her mouth lifted. “If I don’t, I don’t, right?”

A.W. puffed through his nose at that. 

Eventually, the both of them fell asleep, and I was left to watch the TV with its too-bright blue light, listening to the footsteps of other nurses, the almost far off sound of birthing parents, the screeching of newborns echoing down the halls of this wing. 

I wanted that to be me. I wanted to deliver them already. Because maybe they’d be safer out here than in me. 

A few tears fell, wiped away by quick hands. The waterworks stayed on and off all night until morning when my mate woke up with an instant croon, snuggling closer, rubbing my belly, reminding me that we were taking care of the problem. That it wasn’t my fault.

Wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

Morning light seeped through the cracks of the blinds. My mother, half asleep, went to open them fully.

Breakfast came and went.

And still we waited for a doctor, a nurse, anybody. 

A.W. eventually pressed the nurse call button. That seemed to work. 

Nurse Jake peeked his head in, already able to tell from his Beta sense of smell that nothing was the matter. “Can I help?” he asked.

I crossed my arms. “I want to talk to Dr. Khalek. About the laser ablation. I want it done as soon as possible.”

“Ablation ASAP, gotcha,” he returned, pointing a finger gun and stepping out again.

“This. This is the reason I’m starting to hate hospitals,” I grumbled. “The damn waiting.”

A.W. rubbed the back of my neck, gently pinching with his fingers, and I almost melted back into my pillow, false relief flooding me. “Soon, Milo. Soon.”

Sure enough, not long after, Dr. Khalek greeted us with, “Good morning! Jake tells me you want to pursue the laser ablation, which is perfect because that’s the course we need to take. Let’s talk about that.”

“ASAP,” I blurted. She looked to my mother. My mother wasn’t involved in this. She gave nothing away. “What’s the matter?”  
“... Alright. Let’s schedule it.”

“Can we do it today?”

“We can certainly try. In fact, we shouldn’t put it off any longer.”

Those words. Those words sent ice running through me, I could hear the beginnings of a nervous growl from A.W. 


	12. Hang Tight, Bud

In the afternoon, Nurse Jake moved us to an OR with two other nurses. A.W. was allowed in, but had to be decked out in the hair net, the scrubs, gloves, all of it. He tried to make me laugh because he knew he looked ridiculous, and it worked. And then I had to get dressed up, too. The anesthesiologist applied a local anesthetic. 

Dr. Khalek showed up, snapping her gloves on, and explained, as she got the ultrasound going for a brief check. “We’re going to run down from the umbilical cord to the placenta, you remember me telling you that?”

I nodded.

A.W. held my hand again when I requested it as they entered into the uterus. 

I tried looking up at the screen that they were all looking at, but couldn’t do it without moving. 

“Can you, uh– I don’t know, give me play-by-plays?” I asked Dr. Khalek.

“Sure can, Mr. McCoy.” Her brows came together. The nurse rolled up the fetal monitor. “It looks like your recipient– maybe both babies– are having some trouble… pumping blood.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, squeezing my eyes shut. “Okay. But they’re okay, right? This will fix that?”

“It’ll give them better chances. Okay, this part is like hide and seek. I’m following one vessel. Not it.” 

I counted her telling me. I counted her following seven blood vessels.

“Eighth time’s a charm!” she announced, getting her tools in position via the scope. A.W. stood to get a better view of the screen, watching as the laser did its work. She used that vessel to track down the many connecting them. I couldn’t feel a thing. I just watched the ceiling and the lights hanging down, surprisingly relaxed now that the problem was taken care of. 

And sleepy. God, was I sleepy.

Enough so that after the procedure, when they delivered me back to my room, I decided it was time for a nap. 

I woke up curled up with A.W. early the next morning with a nurse wheeling a machine in.

“Let’s see how the boys are doing, yeah?” Jake whispered so as not to wake the two of them. 

I nodded, smacking my lips, rolling away from my mate.

First an ultrasound.

Then a belly belt to try and track all three heartbeats.

Jake was frowning.

“What is it?” I asked, instantly awake. 

A.W. woke up from the sharpness of my surprise, taking in a big breath, blinking, looking over his shoulder.

Jake was no longer whispering. My mother woke. “I can’t track the heartbeats very well…” He reached into his pocket, fumbling with his pager. “Hang on, lemme call Dr. Khalek.” I was starting to sweat, my skin burning and cold at the same time under my hospital gown. Jake patted my shoulder. “Hang tight, bud.”


	13. Two Heartbeats

My mouth was dry. The room was too cold. My memory is sharper here. How couldn’t it be?

Dr. Khalek was pulling up her white sleeves beneath her white coat, asking Jake, “What’ve we got here?”

“I can’t track the heartbeats– They were fast before. Now there’s almost… a lag?”

The notes of the doppler were pounding into me, listening to my babies’ heartbeats, wondering, blindly, what was wrong with them. A.W. was staring with huge eyes at my belly, though nothing was there. Dr. Khalek’s eyes were searching the floor, trying to come up with an explanation, trying to track the sounds. My mother came to stand by the bedside. The doctor looked to Jake. “That’s not lagging. That’s sped up.” Her eyes were as big as mine as she asked me, “Milo, we’re going to have to take him out. See if we can’t treat him.”

“Don’t ask me, just do it!” I yelled. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears; I couldn’t distinguish it from my babies’ on the doppler. 

Before I knew it, nurses were flooding the room, I was being prepared for an emergency c-section. My belly was covered in orange as I was rushed to the OR.

My mother took A.W.’s arm, pulling him back from the room.

A flurry of gear, sounds, and people greeted me inside. I blinked away tears from the corners of my eyes. I was helped to sit up as they prepared a spinal tap, as they wrapped a monitor around my belly for until the drugs kicked in and they could operate. Jake stayed near my head, telling me, “We’ve got good facilities for preemie babies. Did you have names picked out for your boys, cause one’s about to be born early.” I shook my head aggressively. He asked for my hand as they prepared the needle. I squeezed it tight, looking into his dark eyes, trying to fight back more tears as he attempted to distract me from this horror. “You wanna think about names, hm? Something simple, something elaborate? Hell, you could name one Jake!”

A smile cracked my face as tears fell.

“Wait– Wait wait wait–” Dr. Khalek called to the team. Panic flushed through me, tensing my every muscle. My vision tunneled on her. Her and the monitor. She paused. “There’s only two heartbeats now, listen.”

I didn’t know what to listen for. All I knew was that the pattern was different. 

She slathered gel on my belly. I sat back in shock.

My eyes were glued to the ultrasound as she searched, moving the belt slightly. My nails were digging into Jake’s palm. 

She sighed.

“No, he’s–” My voice caught in my throat. “He was just– I thought the procedure would–…”

“I’m sorry, Milo,” she said, coming closer to me. “We’ve lost one.”


	14. Too Much Blood

It felt like I didn’t breathe for a long time. I still felt that pup’s weight in me. He was still there– How could he be dead?

The nurses were pulling off their masks. I saw tears in the eyes of one. Another was rubbing one’s back. 

I stumbled back into myself, raising my voice, pushing myself up. “The ablation! That was supposed to save them! Both of them!”

“The other two pups have fairly normal heartbeats,” she tried to tell me.

“And the third has none! The third–…” I blinked, kept blinking. “Which one was it?”

“The recipient. Heart failure. Too much blood.”

An Alpha nurse I hadn’t even noticed before now had a croon stuck in his throat while the omegas collectively tried to blanket my shock. I let go of Jake. I let go of the sheets. I fell backward onto the table. 

The things on the ceiling were the same as yesterday. The little stain near one of the air vents. The bend of the arm of the light hanging over me. 

I’d had three sons yesterday. Today I had two living sons and one dead.

The tears began to leak out of my eyes, rolling down quickly. My face scrunched up as my chest began to cave in on itself, as pain began to eat out my insides. I had to think to breathe, to suck in huge gasps that hurt my lungs even more. 

Though I had all three still inside me, it was like I could feel the loss of life physically. I wondered if his brothers in there knew. I wondered if they could tell, if they knew the pattern of heartbeats better than the doctors. 

I couldn’t speak as Jake gently propped me up, as he hugged me, my face bent into my hands, sobbing. 

Slowly, the nurses began cleaning up.

I wanted to tell them no, that we could still try. 

They began to leave.

I was helped off the table. I couldn’t even hear what Jake or the doctor were saying to me. They put me in a wheelchair.

When we came into the room, I could smell my mate’s grief thick in the air. He knew.

I saw him pacing, sobbing, my mother trying to shadow him, trying to comfort him as she wiped away her own quiet tears. It made me cry harder. 

We sat on the bed together, A.W. holding me close, my mother scenting the top of my head as she sniffled. 

And that was all there was the rest of the day and into the night. I kept waiting and waiting for something to click, some kind of relief. Over the sounds of tears stopping later in the evening, mine continued, spurred on by the sound of the doppler stuck in my head. I don’t think it will ever leave. Not really. 

It was awful to exist. Awful to watch the ticking of the clock on the wall carrying me further and further away from the life of one of my own. 

Jake came in the middle of the night, bearing clean materials for nesting. I didn’t have the energy to nest, so my mother built one, while A.W. got me to drink some water– it was that or an IV. 

I kept waiting for the pain in my chest to end. It still comes back from time to time.


	15. 206

It was one a.m., and my mother had gone outside to call my father, my sister, let them know. A.W. was whispering things I couldn’t hear near my belly to his surviving pups, to the dead son inside. 

It was two a.m., and I’d stopped sobbing, the tears just leaking out on their own. All was quiet.

It was three, and I could hear A.W. in the hall crying as he spoke to his moms on the phone. I opened my arms to him when he came back and he sank into me, holding my hospital gown tight. 

It was four, and he was asleep. My mother was keeping a silent vigil. She emanated calming pheromones I hadn’t felt in a long time. 

It was five, and I was alone awake, exhausted, stuck between giving remembrance time to my dead son and thinking of the other two I had to take care of. I didn’t know how to balance it. The struggle within me was violent, but my body was limp, and my eyes were blank. 

Six. 

Seven.

Eight. Breakfast was shuttled in by a nervous-looking Omega nurse. She wheeled in the cart with a whispered, “Good morning,” and a sympathetic gaze. I just stared. 

My mother came to sit on the side of the bed around my mate’s legs from where he was tucked in my lap, bringing the tray with her. “Just a little bit, Milo?”

With guilt festering behind my breast bone, I nodded, taking the tray, trying to eat some of it.

The movements woke up A.W.. His beautiful eyes were swollen and held too much. I couldn’t look at them for long. I handed him a piece of fruit. He shook his head, drawing himself up with a breath, pulling his knees into his chest. He closed his eyes again and began to croon, and it shouldn’t have made me start crying again, but the tears went plopping onto the tray anyways. I had to hand it back to my mom, hide myself away behind a pillow, push my head into A.W.’s leg. 

Later on, my mother handled the logistics of when they would take him out. 

I felt awful for wanting it to happen soon. 

A.W. was there when they removed him. We got to see the little fingers, toes, got to cry over his little body. 

I was haunted by the sight of them taking him away. We had elected to cremate and not do anything with those remains. I think it shocked the crying right outta me. Because I couldn’t cry anymore after that. 

The other babies were doing fine. The donor baby was regaining his blood supply, his fluids. 

On the night we had our flight to go home, in the airport, I mustered up the courage to check my phone.

Texts from our friends. From his parents. From my sister. Missed calls. Words from my father.

No tears spilled over, but I was emotional nonetheless.

I didn’t know how we’d go back to normal after this. 

As soon as we got off the plane, though, something like fear hit me. I didn’t want to go back home. 

A.W. rolled our carry-ons to the car that would take us back to Punxsutawney, my mother getting into the front seat. Behind the car, I grabbed his arms, pleading with him, “Let’s not go back. Not to my house. We could– We could stay in a hotel or something. The bed and breakfast off of Piney Point? Cobblestone, maybe?”

Concern was noticeable in his eyes, but he accepted the idea just fine in a matter of seconds, nodding, pulling me close with an arm, kissing my forehead. “Do you need anything from home I can go pick up?”

“Don’t worry about that,” I told him, pulling closer. I had to bite the inside of my mouth. I could hear his heart beating in his chest. Not fast and frantic like our son’s, but slow and steady. I blinked away tears fast.

We didn’t stop by the house. Mom and the driver dropped us off at the hotel– Cobblestone, near Gobbler’s Knob. The tourists had already come and gone this season. We’d made a reservation for an extended stay in the car. 

My mother smelled a bit nervous, and when I looked back, her eyes were on me…

I put my bag down and went back to the window of the front seat, reaching in and hugging her. For all she couldn’t do, she was still my mom. She’d been there for us. She scented my head briefly, patting my cheek. “Don’t stay shut in too long. You might not like yourself when you come out,” she whispered. 

But I couldn’t wait to get inside, checking in with urgency in my scent. A.W. didn’t go through any of his pleasantries or listen to the desk clerk’s spiel about their amenities, forgetting their strange looks as they realized his dynamic. He followed me wordlessly to the elevator, pocketing our cardkeys. I kept chewing on the inside of my lip as we went up the elevator that moved too slow and had dinky little plastic buttons. I kept twisting my fingers into my jean pockets, counting every number in the hall to get to ours: 206.

I fumbled with the card to open it up, and the expected relief from being somewhere all mine didn’t hit me as I walked in and it smelled like chlorine cleaning supplies. 

A.W. passed me, dumping his stuff on the desk in the corner, peeking out the window showing us a view of the slosh-covered road out front under a gray sky. I let the door fall shut with a heavy sound and pushed my bags between the king-sized bed and the round bathtub out in the open. 

He was still looking out the window, his shoulders tight.

I went to him. I turned his face to me, reached up as far as I could, and tried to scent him. He was crooning as we just laid our faces on each others’ shoulders. I blinked away tears; they just didn’t stop coming now that they’d started again. 

He then sat in the desk chair as I frantically began putting a nest together on the bed, ripping the sheets back, clammy sweat on my back. He couldn’t move and I couldn’t seem to stop. I went back and forth to him for some kind of mutual reassurance, only satisfied when I was in the middle of the nest that smelled like us and my mother and vaguely of the hospital. 

It was like neither of us knew what to do now. We didn’t want to do much of anything, but anything had to be better than sitting and thinking and becoming so lost in ourselves the sun had set before we knew it, sending the room into gray and purple shadows cast off the walls, caught in the bathtub. 

I finally wiped my watering eyes and said in the overwhelming silence, “I should eat something. We should get dinner or… something…”

He looked up at that, nodding. 

But neither of us moved for a good long while.

Eventually, to my distress, he went out alone to bring back some pasta for us from Woody’s. 

I sat on the floor at the end of the bed, staring at my smaller belly, trying to gear myself up for making myself eat. For all it supposedly wasn’t my fault that we’d lost one of the pups, it felt that way. That was normal, I supposed. But what it did for me is that it gave me the gumption to force myself into healthier habits for the remaining two sons I had in me. 

Of course, it meant little to me when I broke down over a plastic bowl of alfredo while watching the nightly news, my mate’s head pushed to mine. 

Too tired to do much else, but not tired enough to sleep, we tried to let the TV distract us, tried to let it numb us out just for a little bit of relief from this process of loss. 

I didn’t leave that room for the next few days.


	16. Let the Lie Stand

A.W. went back and forth, to school, to his parents’, to my house. The first night he came back after seeing his moms, his eyes were so damn red they made me want to start crying again, too. But soon days were turning into the end of a week. And he had to be the one to tell me that our teachers were worried I’d have to retake the year thanks to my absences.

It was something I tried to ignore because if I didn’t pass this year, it would mean defeat. The whole purpose for us to be mates would be given a kick in the gut. But the bubble of the hotel room was all I wanted to be in. In here, I could cry when I liked. I could sleep when I liked. I could make my reality small enough to house only my mate and my pups and the mentions of people I knew before. I refused to see any of them, though we did tell them I was fine. It was a flimsy word. A sham of one, a placeholder. For everyone, it seemed, but especially me with my overuse of it.

Maybe it was awful to try to have two grieving teenage mates try to take care of each other the best they could given the circumstances. I think that’s why he went to his parents’ so much, so he could recharge for my sake. I don’t think he wanted to push anything on me. But he should’ve. 

All of my failings were coming to bite me as the second week began. I could no longer cry. I tried. 

My chest ached in guilt as I held A.W. in the nest one night, knowing exactly where I’d gone wrong, ruined our lives. As the light from cars passing outside fell across his shadowed face, I remembered his surprise, how big his beautiful eyes had gotten when I’d asked him to mate me. 

I had to turn away from him with a fist to my forehead and my teeth bared, cursing myself for dragging him in. Selfish. It had been selfish.

In the morning, just like every morning, when he found his phone under the layers of the nest, he rubbed his throat– sore from crooning so much– and asked me in a hoarse voice, “Are you going today?”

“No,” I sighed, hating myself for it, pushing my face into a pillow to hide the expression.

He leaned over to me, pressed a kiss to the back of my neck, whispering, “You’ve still got a little bit more time. The teachers tell me it’s running out.”

I grumbled, curling my fingers into the pillow, anxiousness flooding me, “Tell them it’s not your job to get me to go. Tell them to email me themselves.”

I could feel his hair brush the back of my neck as he nodded. His hand slipped all the way down my back before he pushed himself on out of the nest. 

The pressure was killing me it felt like. I didn’t know who I’d be by the end of this experience, whether I passed the grade, whether I was a good father. Those thoughts had me lying curled up in the empty bathtub with a blanket wrapped around me by the time he got back. 

“Oh, Milo,” he sighed. 

I looked over at him. I didn’t have anything to say or explain. I just asked, the words bland on my tongue, “How was school.”

“Fine. What’re you doing, sweetheart?” His scent was strangely dampered.

“... I don’t even know.”

He dropped his bag, squatted by the edge of the tub, arms leaned onto the ledge. “The gang misses you. A lot. They love you a lot, you know.”

“I know,” I huffed, brows creasing. Did I really deserve that affection? I was taking much much more than I gave. I rubbed my face, sat myself up, pulled the blanket tighter. “Are the teachers still giving you a hard time about me?”

“I can handle that, Milo.”

“I want to know.”

He let loose a little sigh. “They’re worried. A lot of them get it. Some of them don’t. Fuck the ones who don’t…” I nodded into my knees, eyes downcast. “Hey, you want a bath?” 

“Why not?”

He collected the blanket, helped me stand and shuck off the clothes I kept washing in the downstairs machine just to wear the next day. I watched the warm water lap at my toes, heard him shove his backpack in a corner, get out some binders. 

Just the thought of looking at my schoolwork sent dread pooling in my stomach. I shoved it quick from my mind. 

The corner of my lip twitched as I heard him hiss under his breath at a worksheet, “What the fuuuuck…” I hoped he didn’t mind me just watching him, my elbows folded on the ledge, chin on my arms. Once the tub was all filled up and I turned it off, turned on the jacuzzi feature– the only good thing right now– he came back to me.

“The water’s nice,” I invited. “There’s room for you.”

“No, thanks,” he huffed, sitting down slowly, joint by joint it seemed. 

He put his head down and I fluffed up his short hair, threading my fingers one way then the other, though it always popped back to its original shape– unlike mine. A bittersweet thought passed my mind: what our pups would look like. It was something I hadn’t given much time to thinking about, especially not with the tiny, alien-looking son fresh in my mind. I traced the stripes on the side of his head presented to me, felt how they were growing out. He still kept them because I liked to do just this. My fingers always knew where to trace. 

“I’m not going to school tomorrow,” he told me.

I stopped. “That’s fine… Why?”

He shrugged slowly, as if the movement took too much out of him. 

I didn’t push it. I just kept petting. He dipped his hand into the churning water, left droplets on my shoulders, watched them roll off. 

I should have.

Late that night, his shirt inched up as he stretched, as we got ready for bed. Over his hip bone, I saw what I thought was an oddly placed shadow– hell, this place was full of them– but as soon as it disappeared, I realized that it was a bruise. A dark, dark bruise. 

I reached over him, pulled his shirt up.

He sucked air between his teeth, looking to the side as I took in the patches of bruising over his ribs, all dark, all fresh. 

“What the hell happened to you?” I asked, hands curled into fists, feeling anger begin to coil in my chest.

He snapped back, “It’s fine– Don’t worry–”

“How can I  _ not  _ worry!?”

The scent of his anger made me back up. He sat up explosively, wincing slightly. “I’m not going to school tomorrow or for the next few days because I got suspended. There. Happy?”

“No?! What–”

“I got into a fight with Lindsey and Braxton. It was stupid, and I threw the first punch.”

I pinched my nose, still seeing his bruising behind my eyes. Two against one would do that to you. “But… you’re alright? No broken ribs? How did they not get your face?”

He ground out, staring across the room, “I’m fine. Just a little busted up. I had my arms up and they were kicking where I couldn’t cover.”

“Shit…” They’d gotten him down. I landed a fist in my open hand. “Are they suspended, too? Are they?”

“Lindsey is. Braxton isn’t because he was just an accomplice.” He snorted. “Just…” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I thought Declan was one of them when he pulled me out. He’ll be going to school with a shiner tomorrow.”

I hesitated. “How did it start?”

“With me. That’s all.”

I pursed my lips, looking at the point he was staring at on the wall. My hand found its way to my belly, resting there as if for comfort. I didn’t know what to say. So I pulled his hand there with mine, trying to see if it made him feel better.

Though it was still dampered, his honey-scent came out a bit more, even if his face did not move. 

“They probably fucking deserved it,” I growled, and that almost made him smile. I followed it, raised an eyebrow. 

He shook his head. “Don’t get mad, but it’s kind of funny to see you this angry being this pregnant. It’s cute.”

I squinted. He broke into a smile. The first proper one I’d seen from him in over a week. I stuck a finger in his face. “Once these guys are out, if we still hate Lindsey and Braxton’s guts, I’m gonna fight, too.”

He was laughing, “No, Milo!”

“Hell, yeah! I’ll have been close to sedentary for  _ months _ .”

“Which means you won’t be able to throw a punch.”

“Want me to prove I still can, Gibbs?” I threatened, only half jokingly.

“I kinda almost wanna see that,” he admitted, leaning forward, kissing me, keeping a hand on my raised fist, just in case. When he pulled back, he noted, “I do think you’ve gained a little weight back. Who knows, maybe you wouldn’t get knocked out.”

“I’ll knock  _ you _ out, Alistair-William!”

“Yeah, I get it.” He darted forward to kiss me again. “Hey.” Another kiss. “Wanna go out for a walk or something?”

I frowned. “But I’m all warm– I already had a bath.”

“I’ll give you another bath if you just come outside.” I bit the side of my tongue, trying to find more excuses I could use beyond just a flat out no. He nuzzled in, beginning to scent me. “It’ll be good for you, tough guy.”

I… really couldn’t argue with that.

I bundled up, even bringing a plaid blanket with me to go brave the humid chill from the mid-spring night. I took his hand as we stepped out into the night air, smelling the road I saw every day from the window, smelling the humidity, the cars, the faintness of strangers in the parking lot, the pine trees to our right. It ashamed me that it was all enough to make me uncomfortable. Still, we walked together on the side of that road for a ways, our hands in our pockets, going into the outskirts of downtown, through empty store parking lots, under billboards, sometimes in silence, sometimes trying to talk about things that didn’t matter. The town was familiar, the scene we set was familiar. And by the time we got back to the hotel, that room I hadn’t left for a week seemed less familiar than the lot of the town. Still, I was exhausted from it. A.W. was, too. Like he promised, he drew another bath, and actually sat in it with me as we both dozed, trying to work up the energy to get to the nest just a few feet away. 

It was a good night. And I’d needed it.

But in the morning, I couldn’t sleep past eight, antsy. 

When my mate woke up with a groan, I handed him a mug of bitter coffee and went to check his bruises. My words felt as bitter on my tongue as I told him, “Let’s go home. Let’s see our parents.”

He watched me through the steam coming out of his cup. “... You’re ready?”

“I’m fine.”

We let the lie stand. 

He almost had a hard time changing, sore. I tried to help where I could before packing up our things. 

It felt wrong to push the mourning process aside. I had little choice but to push him out of my mind for now. I knew he’d resurface in my weak moments.


	17. Rejoining Society

In the lobby, I just stared at the world outside, so different in the daytime, not just ours anymore, but populated with cars, with the occasional pedestrian while A.W. checked us out. 

We got ubered by Frank Costello to A.W.’s house first. Of course, it was only Lenora home, but she was all I needed at the moment. 

We spent long moments in the doorway, her head bent down to my shoulder, her hand on the back of my head as I forced dryness into my eyes. 

When she finally pulled back, she said quietly, something softer in that monotone voice of hers, “I don’t know what you need to hear right now, but I’m glad you’re back with us.”

After a quick visit, we borrowed the car to get to my house. With any luck, my father wouldn’t be home.

I stepped in first, taking deep whiffs of my old home. 

My mother exploded off the couch, rushing to me, my mate, wrapping her arms around both of us, murmuring little, ‘hi’s over and over. 

Over her head, my eyes caught movement and my shoulders went lax seeing my sister’s blond head come into view as she thundered down the stairs. 

“Cat,” I greeted, sounding strangled, though there was a smile on my face. She swept me up into a hug, scenting my head enthusiastically.

“Milo, oh my God I’m so, so sorry– What an awful accident…”

She laid a hand on my mate’s shoulder and he moved to accept a hug from her. “How long have you been in town?” I asked, dropping my backpack. Her sad brown eyes were on my belly. 

“A week. When mom told us what had happened, I took off.”

I wanted to apologize for her missing school, for her being here this long with only my parents for company. I kept my silence. Kept a hand on my belly. She helped us unpack, helped stuff all my nesting materials into the wash, cracking jokes that helped take our mind away from the dark places they were so familiar with, joking about her dating escapades. 

We waited a long, long time for my father to get home. I caught up with my friends, answered teachers’ emails, and by the end of that afternoon, I wasn’t sure I had the energy to face him. I kept myself glued to A.W. in an attempt to recharge, using him as a shield for as long as he’d let me… 

It was nine when my father got back. 

We were all waiting downstairs, the TV something none of us were actually paying attention to. 

And when he came in through the garage door and smelled me, he dropped his bag of food. 

I turned my head, craned it back, my pulse going. 

A.W. had a tight rein on his anger, but I knew it’d be released explosively if something went wrong. 

My father strode into the living room, eyes wide, red-rimmed.

I stood slowly, went over to him, shame crawling across my skin for whatever reason.

“Milo,” he whispered gruffly. 

I was already crying when I walked into his shoulder, letting his grungy work clothes catch the tears. His hand rested on the back of my head as he crooned and shushed. Rather than my mate being explosive, I was. I sobbed furiously, nails digging into him, baring my teeth as I tried to suck up breath. 

It felt like it was our fault: his for putting the work on me, mine for letting him. I knew it wasn’t. I knew it. But still.

I felt like a little kid again when he sat down on the couch and I got to sit between him and A.W. and lean my head over onto his shoulder as the tears stopped. With his arm across the back of the couch, he gave my mate a nod, a pat on the shoulder. 

Families were messy, messy things. The worst emotions came from them. The best came from them. And they flip-flopped between them so fast it could give you vertigo… 

I didn’t mess with the feelings presiding over that night. Not when, for once, we were all on the same page. 

The next morning, I decided I was going to school. A.W. insisted on walking me there, and once I was in, waved goodbye to him from the doors, it felt like a whole new place… different. But it was me who was different.

My friends were there to greet me. And it was good for me to get all of their sympathies all at once instead of a prolonged chain of pity. 

The looks I got from people in the halls sent discomfort winding through me. I didn’t have A.W. to shield me from them either. This is what he must have felt like when he came back. People I didn’t talk to came up throughout the day to offer condolences that left me feeling a little lighter than before or, adversely, well-meaning words that struck the wrong chords. 

By lunch, I was burned out. Jumpy.

Declan (with his black eye and all) and Beaver appointed themselves to be my bodyguards. Hannah sat close to offer comfort, negating it with how she tried to help me block out a schedule with Matthew to do all my makeup work. Abby got me to eat. Ronnie got me to laugh. Linus warned me when someone was coming to talk to me. 

By the end of the day, when they walked me out to A.W., who was there waiting for me, I was ready to just sink into my nest I still hadn’t built yet, dammit… 

For some reason, he looked just as tired as he asked me how school was.

After our send off, after we dispersed into going home groups, I asked him, “What did you do today?”

“I went to my house. Hung out with Lenora. I returned some baby gear to the store.”

Oh… “Like–… Like what?”

“The three seater stroller. I got a twofer.” He looked up to the perpetually gray-blanketed sky. “The extra bassinet.” I nodded. He let out a little breath, taking my backpack from me easily, slinging it over his far shoulder, and wrapping his other arm around my shoulders. “Your dad didn’t want me messing with that stuff. Said I shouldn’t touch it. I– It’s okay, right?”

“Of course it is.” I didn’t have it in me to say ‘Fuck him’. I pushed myself into saying, “I’m glad these guys will still have each other.” 

He didn’t respond.

I realized I was worried about him. 

“Hey,” I suggested, resting my arm around his back, “Can we stop off at the store?”

He followed me as I went up and down the aisles, keeping the handheld basket on my arm from bumping my belly. He didn’t make any remark when along with the ready rice I tossed in some lotion. 

By now it felt like the whole town knew the news. Keith checking us out didn’t say much, but when I looked him in the eye, I felt it. He knew.

At home, my mother surprisingly had dinner ready– probably thanks to the help of my sister. Some chicken casserole-type thing. Whatever it was, it smelled good as we bypassed the kitchen entirely, heading upstairs, crashing on opposite sides into the tiny nest beside my bed, letting out alternate sighs. I tried not to look at the new stroller. Moving on was what was going to see me through. A.W., however, couldn’t stop staring at it. I tried to distract him, scooching over, scenting him. He closed his eyes, but didn’t make a move back. 


	18. Help You Heal

I didn’t have the strength to do any work tonight, and dinner was a quiet thing. I made myself get a second helping. It made my sister’s eyes light up and a brief smile cross her face. 

Now, for my mate, I had a plan.

I began to spread out a blanket over the rough carpet, placing strategic pillows for his comfort. “You should go take a shower,” I suggested.

He leaned in the doorway, joking, “You think I stink?”

“No, never,” I scoffed. “But I’ve got a plan and you showering is involved.” I slid my eyes his way. New plan. “And me.”

I joined him.

And once we were clean, I could have almost fallen over, but pulled on some shorts anyway. He was beside me at the closet and I had to wave him off, telling him, “Nope. Not for you.”

“No?” he spluttered, laughing.

“No, you go get comfy on the blanket. I’ve gotta go get some more stuff.”

“Sure. Sure,” he hummed, lowering himself down slowly.

“No, A.W. massages start on your back,” I explained.

“Oh, is that what we’re doing?”

“Hell yeah. You’re gonna be relaxed as shit by the time I’m done with you.”

He flopped over onto his belly, grabbing the pillow and sighing, “Yeah, sounds good, babe.”

I returned with my phone and a smaller towel, folding one onto his legs and backside before getting over him and getting started, dolloping some lotion across his shoulders. I grabbed my phone, put an earbud into his ear turned up to me, and turned on this song he’d been listening to about a month ago, something soft and rolling with an acoustic guitar. 

His face turned to the side made it look like he was already asleep, brows relaxed down into his eyes, lips parted as I put some pressure into his shoulders. “A.W.? You still there, honey?”

He hummed. That was good enough for me. 

Just to make sure he stayed awake to enjoy my handiwork, I ducked down to his neck, scenting every so often, leaving kisses on his skin, trailing my short nails down his flanks, watching him shudder and then mumble with a half smile that it tickled. I was careful to avoid the bruises. There were more on his front than his back, and when I got off to ask him to roll over, my stomach twisted at the sight. 

I straddled him again, squeezing some lotion out in my palm.

My skin grew heated when I looked down at the half-lidded eyes he was giving me, his head still turned to the side a little bit. I was having too much trouble looking away. 

I loved him. God, I loved him…

I came closer, asking quietly, “Is it helping?”

He just nodded. But he wouldn’t stop watching me as I worked over his front, starting with his neck. It felt like he was daring me to go lower. It’d been a while. I was forgetting how to breathe normally, my whole neck burning. We were both already half hard. The point of no return was my fingers tucked up under the towel across him. But it was there I stopped, chicken to go any further, my teeth worrying the inside of my lip. 

“Do you want to?” he asked mildly, a hand on my hip.

I swallowed, voice sticking inside my throat. “Yeah.”

“You sure?”

I nodded. “Uh huh.”

I felt like I didn’t know what I was doing, felt frozen with my big fat belly in the way. The seconds of staring kept ticking by. He was trying to work out my scent. “Milo?”

“I don’t wanna be up here,” I blurted. And fuck me, that red on my neck began to spread.

“You know that’s fine, right,” he chuckled, tumbling over me so we were face to face on our sides, nosing up to me. I kissed him. And this was fine and all, but I was still trying to articulate something so simple. I was too out of breath to really get into it– never was good at that sort of thing. So, my chest heaving, I wiped the corner of my mouth, and slipped beneath him. I couldn’t help but glare. “Oh,” he laughed. “Sure.” We were tired and sloppy, kisses wet and slow. As I nuzzled into him, he said, voice warm and sweet, “Thank you for the spa night, honey; it was great.” We scented each other, and warmth filled my belly at how perfectly we fit. 

Out of practice, dazed, even, I somehow managed to find my confidence again, though I stayed mindful of the belly. And that hesitance turned to hunger so fast. I huffed, “Well it’s not over yet,” bringing his face down to me again. 

I coaxed him behind me, presenting from the back, and he got his hands hooked on my hips. 

Too full too fast.

My wrists gave out and I fell to my forearms. My eyes rolled up in pleasure and I half-heartedly covered my loud mouth. We didn’t exactly have the upstairs to ourselves anymore. A.W. on the other hand, had the nerve to laugh, as strained as it was. Until I butted back against him and it turned to groaning and panting, his nails digging into my skin reflexively. He caught his breath, bent over me, licked a line up my spine that had me shuddering, had my mouth opening wider against my folded hands. 

Too sensitive. Everything was too sensitive. 

From my ears, to how he reached around to send me into overdrive, it was too much.

Which is why it took two minutes flat. 

I didn’t even mind that he’d knotted me, not bothering to lift my head up. He knelt rigid for a moment, gasping, before flopping down onto my back, resting his forehead behind the nape of my neck. Where his hair fell tickled nicely. 

Once he could pull out, he immediately fell backwards into the nest, an arm flopped over his chest. I looked back curiously, seeing his glazed over eyes staring up at the ceiling, mouth still open as his breathing got more and more regular. “Tired,” he huffed.

I pulled on my pants with minimal hassle, though I knew I’d have to wash them out, and clambered over to him, leaning over to kiss his cheek, rest my face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. “Love you.”

He laughed, “Uh, yeah! I know you do!” I pulled up, gave him the look. “Love you back.”

I patted his chest, satisfied, before heaving myself up. “Okay. I’m gonna go get cleaned up.”

“You– You do that.”

By the time I got back, he was fast asleep without even a blanket, head leaned back at an awkward angle, snoring softly.

Shaking my head, I pulled a blanket from the side of the nest and tucked him in before framing him with pillows all cozy-like. I went to sleep in the bed with my pregnancy pillow so I wouldn’t disturb him– not like I could with the kind of sleeping he was doing. In fact, he was still asleep by the time I left for school, so I let him be, jealous as I was.

Beaver found me on my way to school because he’d had to detour and return a library book for his mom.

He seemed sheepish as our preliminary conversation dwindled, rubbing his flanneled arm. “Listen, I don’t know if we’re supposed to talk about this, and I– I don’t know how to bring it up any other way, but I wanted to ask when you’re due…?”

Even though my heart sank just a bit, I patted him on the back. He was a sweet guy. Took so much care not to upset others. “July. The middle of July.” 

That was all I could think about all day, and when I tweaked my thinking  _ just  _ right… I was excited. I was excited for the pups to be out and about and meeting us. That was what I needed to hold onto. 

A.W. snuck onto campus at lunch time, and I got to meet him by the baseball field under the bleachers, just to visit. He was still a little (teasingly) hurt that I hadn’t told him goodbye this morning. It almost felt like we were catching up on the courting we hadn’t had a chance to do, hiding in the shadow of the bleachers, scenting each other more bashfully than I’d like to admit.

Until Declan and Linus crept up on top of the bleachers and began pelting us with nasty old pistachio shells they found on the ground.

“Boooo,” Declan said, monotone.

A.W. actually growled. Linus swung to the side to see us and held up his hands. “Woah, there.”

“At this point, dude, I think you’ve got like a radar for us or something,” A.W. retorted, angry, but amused all the same. I raised an eyebrow as Declan poked his head down to see us.

“I can feel lovey dovey couples from miles away. Yeah, sure, you and Linus can sniff out stuff better than me, but can you do  _ that? _ ”

I leaned against the metal railing beneath. “And I can’t tell if you’re spurned by something or if you really just don’t like it.”

“Me? Spurned?” He scoffed, coming around, swinging down, using Linus’ small shoulders as an anchor point. “Never.”

Linus brushed off the cocky Alpha, telling us, “Hannah and Matthew think you shouldn’t be here, A.W.. Especially not with the police station right across the road.”

“I have not seen  _ one _ cop in Punxatawney that can outrun a grade schooler,” A.W. pointed out.

I added, “‘Cept when they bring them in for Ground Hog Day.”

Linus continued, still calm. “What about your mom?”

“Where do you think I was hanging out before I popped over here,” he chuckled, eyes bright. “Didn’t tell her I was coming to visit, of course. To be honest, she or my other mom don’t keep tabs on my attendance anymore. They don’t know I was suspended.”

I wanted to finally ask what he’d been fighting about, but figured in the company of our friends was not a good place to bring it up. 

The corner of Linus’ mouth twitched up, something almost rare. “Then why is her patrol car parked in front of the school, Gibbs?”

A.W. paled. “Shit. _ Shit. _ ”

After all we’d been through, this didn’t seem like a big deal, so I just smiled as he yanked me in to kiss my forehead and privately tell me he wouldn’t be able to pick me up today. I watched him fondly as he took off at a run, his head craned to try and see the front of the school. He hopped the short chain link fence without stopping and was off.

“Hmm, that’s fun,” Linus said with that small smile. 

“I like to think so,” I agreed, squatting once, wide-legged before coming up to my friends. They looked a little miffed, eyes big. “... Stretching? It feels nice?”

“I’m gonna assume that move is a pregnant thing,” Declan asserted before rounding us up. “Come on. Back to the cafeteria.”

I got to go say hi to my mother-in-law, who was happy to see me. And the amazing thing was, I was able to eat a second lunch after that. 

I should not have.

Because while I was concentrating in Biology for our kahoot game before the test (that I sure as hell wasn’t prepared for– what was a carbon cycle? Dinosaurs and shit, and that’s all I got) I got hit with some massive heartburn. 

Ronnie was compulsively vocalizing (badly) along with the song, drumming his hands, even though he was in ninth place out of twelve. Diana kept glaring at him because of it. I just scowled on ahead at my two changing positions: twelve and eleven. Braxton and I volleyed between the two and by God it was embarrassing considering I was actually trying. 

My life had been changed plenty of times before this moment, but this was one of those simple moments that turned big. 

I jolted to feel a push coming from inside my stomach, blurting, “The fuck?” Not really noticed due to the intense rivalry and shouting. Ronnie noticed, surprisingly. 

I smacked a hand to my belly, a kind of fluttering inside, then another bolt of pressure. My mind sky-rocketed into panic, drawing the attention from the whole room due to my scent. 

Ronnie slipped out of his seat, crouched by me.

That damn music was still playing as we sat in silence.

“Milo, are you good? Are they–”

“I– I don’t know. I felt one like… moving.”

Our Beta female teacher purred upon overhearing that, looking at me affectionately, telling me, “That’s normal, Milo. Babies move. Nothing to be afraid of.”

The game resumed, with a few alphas looking back, a few betas whispering, a few omegas still– perhaps even unconsciously– releasing calming pheromones that made the kahoot game go much smoother.

I ended in last place because I kept staring at my belly, kept my hand over it to feel the kicking. That’s what it was, right?

Ronnie and Rose stuck close by my desk, looking on in wonderment, asking to feel. I didn’t have any qualms, so they plastered their hands on my belly until class was over. 

I jumped on Abby in the hall. “Dude! Dude! I felt them move! I felt the pups kicking!”

Ronnie was right by me, adding, just as excited, “I did, too! Both of them! Like they were fighting!”

She stared at my stomach, raising her eyebrows, a silent question. I pulled her to the side of the moving hallways and let her. I’d known this alpha for long enough. More than long enough. 

“Aw, man!” she grumbled, feeling nothing. “I missed it. So did A.W.”

“I reckon they’ll move again at some point,” I laughed, rubbing the back of my head, proud, teeming with pride from the fuzzy feeling in my head to the butterflies in my stomach, the flutters of my pups that I could feel. I knew what they looked like thanks to their brother. I knew they had little toes, little noses, little heartbeats. Two surviving heartbeats. I was so grateful I could have cried– something I was already known for doing a lot, even outside of this pregnancy. 

Beaver walked me as far as we’d met in the morning, asking to feel my belly, to let him know when they kicked, asking me about names. 

“Jake,” I replied decisively, the pride in me blocking the pain. “One of them will be Jake. He was our nurse at the hospital.”

“Good and solid,” he laughed, adjusting his suspender beneath his backpack. “What about another J for his brother? Jehovah? Jude?”

“Those sound like they could be the names of your uncles,” I returned.

“I was almost a Jehovah. My parents liked the vibe.”

“Jude,” I mused. I hadn’t thought about names– like, at  _ all.  _ Weird, but true. So I rolled over the companions to Jake out loud. “Jude and Jake.”

“Jace and Jake. From a book series my sister’s in love with.” He spun around to me. “JESSE! I’ve got an Uncle Jesse!”

“Not bad not bad.”

“Henry.”

“Meh.”


	19. Spring Break?

When we parted ways, I was still thinking about those names, up to the point I ran into A.W. walking. “Hey stranger,” I called. He’d scented and seen me before I’d seen him, already coming to me.

“Hey.”

I sidled on up to him, beneath his arm, as he attempted to take my backpack from me. “Guess what happened today?”

“Something good,” he asserted, smiling down at me.

I took his hand, put it on my belly. “They kicked today. Really kicked.”

His eyes were big, his scent confusing. “I missed it!?” he nearly yelped, ducking down to me. I met him head on for a scenting as our steps stopped. 

“They’re gonna move again, you big baby.”

“Yeah, but the firsts are important!”

“To be honest, I thought something was wrong again and freaked out.”

He still had his nose to my scent gland, humming, “You seem more than fine now.” He sighed. “Maybe more fine than you’ve ever been during this.”

I took some time, trying to put it into words, though it wasn’t anything eloquent. “It’s nice. It’s nice because I know they’re there and they’re okay.” 

“They are,” he affirmed for both our sakes.

“Saw your mom,” I teased, bumping him as we began to walk again. 

“What’d she have to say?”

“She was down there looking for you. Figured you’d come on over to visit and done something you’re not supposed to.”

“Shit, Milo, did you out me?”

“Not exactly. She knew.” I bust out laughing. “She saw you take off– called you a roadrunner with the speed you were going!” He mocked it jokingly in a weird voice. I shoved him away from me with a half smile. He came right back and yanked my ear. “Ow!”

“Serves you right.”

I turned, walking backwards to face him, making my eyes big, holding my belly with too much drama in my limbs. “Is that you’d treat your poor pregnant omega?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve gotta make it up to me,” I pushed before knowing what I was saying. 

“Oh?” He tilted his head and delight spread in my belly, seeing his mating mark poking out of his jacket collar. “How?” 

“You’ll see,” I promised, poking him in the chest. 

Oblivious as he could be sometimes, this interaction went over his head. He just responded with a low, sweet, “Okay.” He stretched his arms up with a sound. “I’ve got loads of time on my hands anyway.”

“What’ve you been up to?”

“I brought my mom lunch and then I’ve been researching baby stuff. How to feed them, hold them, change a diaper.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “I’m gonna be the shit at cleaning up their shit.”

“I’m sure you will, A.W.,” I laughed.

He pulled close to me again, and with the way we were smiling, it felt like some sort of belated honeymoon. “I’m so glad you’re in such a good mood. You deserve it after all this.”

I boasted, puffing out my chest, “And I ate  _ two  _ lunches today!”

“Hell, yeah!”

“Gave me heartburn.”

“Oh.”

“But they  _ were _ tasty.”

“You still gonna want dinner? Your mom planned on beef stroganoff.”

“Even if I don’t want it, I’m gonna eat it.” I pointed to my belly. “These guys aren’t getting any smaller.”

When we got home, I shunned my homework, already needing a distraction from it, drawing my mate in by my scent and how my eyes followed him. He picked up on the scent cues real fast now that I was allowed to let them out here at home in our room. I wanted him to take as long as possible with me to avoid my pre-cal quiz corrections for as long as I could. Being tired was a convenient excuse for just not doing it– didn’t matter how I got tired, did it?

I was sensitive, more awake than last night, but still limp and drained from school itself. A.W. didn’t have that today, awake, energized– it was contagious. 

I presented over and over for him, too much wet slipping down and between my shaking thighs, sometimes being met with tongue and teeth to coax out more and more, other times, we got down to business real fast. I’d latch onto his mating mark and get too swept up in the sensations to care if I was being loud, watching every detail of him in every different arrangement, though we took care not to knot. It’d just slow us down.

My fingers were still twitching as I laid my head on his shoulder, feeling him breathe under my palm. “Jake and Jesse,” I thought aloud.

“Hm?”

“Jake and George? No. No. George doesn’t have the same vibe.”

He tangled his fingers in my hair, not pulling this time, but softly flopping the sticking up bits one way then the other. “Jake for the nurse?”

I nodded into him, drawing a bit of comfort from his skin under mine. He brushed his thumb along my scent gland. “When… When I was in there. For the emergency c-section? We thought he’d just be born early, you know?” He dipped his head into my hair as my fingers curled up on his chest, nodding, crooning. “So Jake was distracting me by trying to name him. I was panicking. He made the joke I should just name him Jake.” 

“... Jake and Justin? Wait, which one are we naming Jake out of these two?”

“Whoever comes out first, let’s say.”

We bounced baby names off of each other in the short time until dinner. Then we were back at it doing dishes. And when we got upstairs, I let my pheromones do what they wanted. They wanted him. Kind of redundant cause of all the action before dinner, but still. 

He had a smile on his face as he went in to kiss me, his hands on my head, briefly asking, “What is  _ with _ you tonight?”

“I don’t wanna do my homework.” I ran a hand up into the hair on the back of his head as we kissed again.

“I could be a responsible mate and friend and encourage you to do your work,” he whispered against my waiting mouth.

“Or you could be a responsible mate and fuck me.”

“Or that,” he hissed, darting in again to catch my mouth, backing me up into the door, a hand of his leaving my head, stroking up and down my throat and across my neck. I pushed my hips into him and he broke, his breath choked. I shivered as he wiped his thumb across my mouth, slipping drool away. I reached down between us as he moved to my neck, my hand shaking as he massaged out more scent from me with his tongue and his teeth, lapping it up, breathing it in, rubbing his own scent into me. 

He moaned against my skin as I found a sweet spot of his, lifting up, whispering in what sounded like a laugh, “You’re going to make me ruin my jeans.”

I didn’t have the breath to reply, too busy panting. 

I did ruin his jeans. And it made me begin to ruin mine.

He pushed me to the bed, everything in me promising we weren’t done with each other. When we worked up to it, it was almost comfortable instead of feverish to have him in me yet again, warm. It made me dig my fingers into the sheets and hum on every slow thrust, keeping my lips bitten shut, my head pressed to his, unharried and savoring. 

It shouldn’t have distressed me as much as it did when he stopped and pulled out, my fingers skimming the sides of his head, his ears, questions rolling off my skin. 

He went down, down, leaving me behind to hold the pillow instead as he kissed down the inside of my thigh over his shoulder, murmuring against my skin in the softest way, “Are you sleepy? Does that feel good?”

He was working down and down and I nodded, rapt. 

He was gentle on me, his mouth warm, not doing anything drastic, and I was thankful for it, able to keep my breaths deep and steady, my eyes fluttering open and closed. 

They opened again when he came kissing up my belly, resting his chin at its point, looking at me, gaze as mellow as mine felt, watching him back, content to just look at him for a little while to be honest.

I got goosebumps as he descended once again, unable to see him from this angle, eyes going wide, then falling shut as his mouth closed around me again. He let go when I began to shake, when I shot a load across my torso. 

It almost seemed from there he was content to trace into the spray, drawing loops across my stomach and belly before kissing me again.

I scooted up for him, hooked my legs around him, just in case he needed a reminder that this was about him, too.

His eyes fell shut as I lightly drew my nails down his front. 

He pushed against me a few times intentionally without breaching and I whined. He with his eyes still closed, had the nerve to crack into a smirk. He reached down, looking, his fingers pulling me apart, exploring, touching so lightly it almost tickled. When he slowly moved into me, I stretched and sighed at the same time he did. He did knot me this time after finishing, rolling his hips against me to test the tight hold. 

I made a little noise, arms out, and he came back down to me, able to angle himself over my hip so he didn’t smush the pups when he covered me. 

He pushed my hair out of my eyes, whispering, “Sleepy boy.”

“Hm?”

“I can see it on your face.” He kissed softly from my jaw to my temple and I turned my head further into him, really ready to drop off. “One more day, Milo. Then the weekend.”

I sighed, running my hands from his back up the sides of his neck. “I know things have quieted down, and are less… eventful. But it’s still busy. Cause of school.”

“As long as you pass, you’re in the clear. A college will take a passing grade, you can transfer to any university you want after that once your grades pull up.” I kept my debt comments to myself. I didn’t even want to hear myself think about them. Not now when things were finally coming together after everything that happened. He took on a funny voice, punchy, being almost as tired as me. “Stress is bad for the babies.”

I gotta admit, I was tired enough to giggle at that. Fucking  _ giggle _ . I mean, I’d heard that line so many times from so many different places. And here my mate was parroting it back sounding like some kind of Milwaukee-native. I was barely awake enough to go clean up with him for like the fourth or fifth time today, sticking close under his arm, asking as my arm went limp brushing my teeth, “What’re you doing tomorrow?” I spit and rinsed, smacking my lips together.

“Dunno yet. Maybe I’ll actually do some catch up work. Fix a light over at my parents.”

I nuzzled into his side. “Come see me.”

“M’kay.” I kissed his shoulder, wondering why I was having this spell where I couldn’t get enough of him– not that I was complaining. “We’ll have Spring Break to do whatever we want, ya know…” He looked down at me and I found myself looking up from under my lashes. 

“I’m sure the gang will want to do something,” he replied, a little quieter. “But to be honest, all I want to do is sit you down and feed you til you’ve got some meat back on your bones.”

I snorted, shrugging him off. “I’m fine! The doctor said–”

“You’re thinner than you’ve ever been. And you’ve  _ been _ thin.” I rolled my eyes, stretching my arms over my head with a sound. He came at me with a hand, tickling my chest and I shied away with a laugh. “I want at least one smorgasbord day. Just one.” He looped the hand towel around the back of my head, drew me closer. “And then I want you to start eating at night. It’s not like you hate food.”

I shrugged, wrapped my arms around his neck where I could reach. “Would you cook for me?”

“I’d feed you Takis and chicken nuggets in bed.”

I raised my eyebrows, heart lighting up. “Welp, that’s romantic enough for me.” 

He suppressed an obvious yawn, pulling away with lingering fingers from me, telling me, “You get in bed, I’ll be right back.”

And when he did get back he had cereal. Cookie crunch in a small bowl with a big spoon. “I figured you’d be a little hungry after– well, all  _ that. _ ”

I hummed in appreciation, taking the bowl from him carefully, lodging it against my knee and a pillow in the nest as he clambered in behind me. I glanced down to see his head pushed against the side of my belly. His eyes were closed, his brows relaxed down into his eyes, still he said, “It seems… It seems like you’re doing better. Are you?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, shoving down the bit of guilt trying to come up like bile. “Yeah, I am. It’s good to be distracted. And I don’t think I’ve looked forward to the pups coming this much before.”

“You’ve got the pregnant glow-thing,” he mumbled, pushing his head in closer. 

I tangled my fingers in his hair, leaving my spoon for the meantime. “What the heck you talkin’ about, Gibbs?”

He raised his eyebrows but did not open his eyes. “You know the kind of stuff I’m talking about.”

I supposed I did. In theory. 

Content, I slurped the rest of the milk from the bowl and reached to put it at the edge of the nest, turning off the lamp, promising myself another, bigger bowl first thing in the morning. “Night.”

“Night. Did you set the alarm?”

“Yup. You gonna come see me?”

“I said yeah.”

“You better.”

I really was a zombie in the morning, and my head kept nodding, almost dunking me into my family-sized bowl of cookie crunch. And because I kept nodding off, I didn’t finish, which was why A.W. had to kiss me goodbye from over the bowl I was taking with me.

It was finished long before I actually got to school. I wiped it out with some paper towels in the bathroom and ended up carrying papers in it I couldn’t be bothered to stuff in a folder. 

In Biology, Ronnie and I used it as a basket to catch balls of paper as we whispered Spring Break plans. 

“I know, but I’m dying to get to a beach!” he whined, flicking his wrist, failing to hit the mark.

“What do you want me to do, buy some sand and dump it on ya?”

“So mean, McCoy!”

“Someone’s gotta be realistic. We’re not rich. No coordinated plane tickets.”

“Then what about a roadtrip?”

“A.W. and I have to save up for the babies. Diapers cost a shitton.” He snickered at the pun. “Plus if chestfeeding doesn’t work out– which it  _ better _ – we’re gonna be paying for formula for two pups.”

“You  _ biscuit, _ I will  _ spot  _ you the money if it means you guys can come.”

I made a face, glanced up to the powerpoint– When was the Carbon Cycle going to end? “I dunno, man…”

“Come on, we’ve got two Spring Breaks left in high school and last year we did nothing!”

“We did fourth of July at Beaver’s. That was fun. Where–” I shrugged to him, “Where would we even go in Pennsylvania, hm?”

“Who said we’d stay in Pennsylvania, huh?” His eyebrows were fucking dancing on his face when I looked over in surprise. “We could go to Lake Erie. Lake beaches are as good as ocean beaches. Or– Or New York!”

“Are you talking Cleveland?”

“Why not? Abby has a car? We’d pay for gas money. I’d spot you and A.W.. I just really want to keep making memories, you know? And hey, you’re gonna be a homebody for a while once those pups arrive.”

It definitely was something to think about.

When A.W. showed up for me– well, actually, he brought wings for everyone (almost– Matthew was vegetarian. He dipped celery sticks in the sauce.) from Pizza Hut– it was then something to talk about, too. We all sat in the new green grass near the fence he’d hopped, the wings in the middle of our circle as Ronnie presented his idea. 

And it was Matthew that brought up, “Isn’t it a little late to be making reservations for hotels and stuff? Stuff near beaches are going to be packed. I mean, Spring Break’s only, what, two weeks away?”

Ronnie leaned forward excitedly, waving around a saucey wing. “I’m fine with staying in a dinky little place if you guys are. It’s the  _ experience. _ Not where we sleep. Hell, I’d even sleep in the car.”

“Not if you drool, you’re not. And you do drool.” Abby threatened. 

Declan pointed out, obviously feeling a bit protective of us as a group as an alpha, “I’m not going to be comfortable on a bad side of town. Especially not with Milo being pregnant and all.”

I lifted a wing to that.

Hannah was pulling up hotels on her laptop, fighting to keep her long dark hair out of her mouth as she scrolled, blown by the wind. “I think it all depends if we find like… a hidden gem. A beach no one goes to, no one thinks of.”

“Good luck with that,” Linus grunted. 

Matthew waved around a celery stick with one hand, a breadstick with another. “Okay, so maybe a place that expects so many tourists that they have extra room.”

“Edgewater,” Hannah replied. “Oh, they have a yacht club!”

Abby snickered. “I’m not sure they’d let us in.” 

“It’s a public beach, Abby! Besides, it’s on Lake Erie, how fancy can it be?”

Matthew pulled out his phone. “There’s got to be a lot of AirB&B happening there.”

I leaned into A.W. to get his attention, asking quietly, “Would you want to go?”

He seemed to snap back to himself, drawing back his thousand yard stare. “It’d be fun. What about you, though?”

I nodded. “I want to try it.”

“This is going to take a lot of parental permission,” Hannah sighed.

I snickered at that. Couldn’t help it. 

By the end of the lunch period, we’d come up with a half-assed plan that we’d have to bring up with our parents before we got any further. Declan took the leftover sauce and downed the mini tubs like shots, making Ronnie want to copy him. I was stuck to my mate, now that our friends had moved on, laughing at the sight as the rest headed off to their next class.

“Milo, honey, you need to get going,” A.W. told me. 

“... I could skip.” He took a breath, ready to negate that and I huffed, “I know, I know. I’ve missed too much already. It’s not my fault I miss you.” His arm tightened around me. “It’s really not. This pregnancy’s got me all clingy and shit.”

“I know. I love it.”

I came up with a lopsided smile. “Yeah, I think I do, too. That’s the second trimester for ya.”

I turned to him, folding my hands in his. “Don’t tell our parents about the trip yet. I want to be there.”

“Okay.” He was already ducking his head to scent me. I licked my lips, closed my eyes. My heart was beating faster as I pushed back against his motions. He got a good whiff of my scent, picking up on the nuances like no one else could, damn him. “Dude, now’s not the time to be excited,” he laughed.

The back of my neck was red at how he’d called me out. “I just said I couldn’t help it!”

“I can’t make you late,” he protested, more to himself than to me, his brows furrowed.

I had to agree. I needed all the teachers on my side if I was going to claw my grades back up. “No.” Still, he kissed me and a chunk of my logic got tossed out the window. 

Frustrated, I grabbed onto the front of his shirt as we broke, asking, “When are you allowed to come back?”

He leaned his forehead to mine, and I knew he got it. “Next week. A few more days.” Cause as much as my body was telling me I needed my mate around me during this period, his might’ve been telling him more so due to his social dominant aspect. He smelled out my disappointment, my discontent, rubbed his cheek to mine, and apologized. “I’m sorry.”

“No.”

“It’s my fault after all. I got baited.”

He used to always take the bait for fights when we were little kids. He still had that compulsion. I swallowed, curling my fingers into the back of his shirt. “What… What did they say?”

His eyes darkened. I saw hate clear on his face. I smelled it in his scent, the smell of a chemical fire, nearly making my eyes burn. He was hesitating. Finally, he admitted, “It’s not pretty. Maybe we should wait til you get home. So you can concentrate in class.”

I trusted that judgement, so I nodded against his forehead. I’d already begun sending out calming pheromones without knowing it. I reached up on my toes, kissed his ear, his cheek, his chin, smiling at the taste of barbeque sauce that was there, wiping the rest off with my sleeve. He was smiling with his eyes closed. His hand squeezed gently at the junction between my shoulder and neck, where my scent gland and mating mark was, and as I sidled closer to him, I wondered how much longer I could stall him. I reached down to the blue resin beads on his wrist, brushed my fingers over them gently, bolstered by that additional physical reminder of our bonding. “I love you, you know.”

He hummed. “Yeah, I do.”

In these days, really nothing was important, nothing was dire. And I was as addicted to that as I was my mate. I’m of the opinion that was rightfully so.

He was there to pick me up after I’d stayed behind with Matthew, who was helping me catch up. Surprisingly, he rolled up in our car– my family’s. 

“How’d you get the keys?” I asked as I hopped on in. 

“Uh, surprisingly enough, your mom handed them to me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, your dad got off early.” As he pulled out of the parking lot, he mused, “Maybe later on, we’ll just get dropped off and picked up so you don’t have to walk.” I nodded. In the last weeks, which were months away, I really didn’t want to risk anything. “There is a catch,” he told me, “Your mom wants us to pick up dinner. Any suggestions? Cravings?”

“Cravings…” I rubbed at my stomach. “I’ll ask the boys.” He snapped his head my way with big eyes. “Eyes on the road, A.W.!”

“Y-Yeah.” A mischievous laugh erupted from me. I tried to smother it behind my hands, looking out the window. “Well?” 

“Spaghetti. They want spaghetti.”

“Coming right up.”

And it was over bowls of spaghetti we slurped up that A.W. and I brought up our Spring Break plans. Nothing was easy in this house and I sure as hell wasn’t expecting this to be the exception.

Except it was.

I cleared my throat, spoke strong. “So, guys… Spring Break’s coming up. The gang’s thinking about going somewhere.”

My mother blinked a few times slowly before asking, “Where?” My father kept his head down in his dinner.

“The idea was a beach somewhere. The closest is Lake Erie.”

Then my father looked up. A.W. cut in before he could say anything, “The nine of us have been looking at AirBnBs. We found a couple places that, when we split costs, are able to take us for twenty dollars a night.”

My mother poked at her penne, musing, “That’s a good price.”

My father pointed his fork at us. “Don’t you think you should be saving up? For the pups?” 

I didn’t want to point out that we didn’t have income to begin with. No one wanted me to go to work and me and A.W.’s parents were worried if he got a job that it’d all be on his shoulders. Between two sets of parents, we’d do just fine. Besides, without them intervening so much, this situation might not have even happened. I didn’t feel bad making them take some kind of responsibility for what they put us through. I stared across the table, away from my father, trying to come up with some kind of answer. A.W. spotted me one, saying, “We all need a break. And I’m sure you’ll be glad to have us out of your hair for a while.”

My mom reached for my hands, asking, “But… you’ll be alright?”

“Of course I will, Mom. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You won’t push yourself?”

My mate leaned his elbow on the table, looking over at me. I could scent his content as he assured her gently, “We’ll look after him.”

My father kept pointing his fork. “Don’t get any weird lake diseases, you hear, boy?” he said, looking me in the eye. “We don’t need those pups coming out with gimpy legs.”

A.W. leaned a bit closer to me, gauging my reaction to something that had the potential to set me off. I just took a deep breath and replied, “Sure.”

And that was that.


	20. Make Her Pay

That night, I tucked myself behind A.W. as he finished some classwork in our nest, keeping an eye on the group chat as to who had permission and who didn’t. So far Linus, Declan, and Abby were all good to go. Beaver looked like he wasn’t going to get to come, and the rest were undecided. I grumbled as much to him as I wrapped a blanket around my bare shoulders, somehow too hot and too cold at the same time.

“Why don’t you get a shirt, babe?” he asked, scratching down his chemistry answers. 

I pursed my lips. I didn’t exactly want to tell him why I didn’t wear my shirts anymore. Why I only wore hoodies and huge sweaters. Shouldn’t he get it? “... They don’t fit.”

“Hm?”

“They don’t fit anymore,” I admitted. 

He turned around to me, a light in his eyes. “Really…?”

“Yeah, they don’t fit over the pups– Why’re you making that face?”

He leaned over to scent me, mumbling, “That’s so cute…”

“It’s not! I’m not gonna fit in anything by next month!” It was true. Let’s chalk it up to hormones, but at that thought, my eyes started to well up. I sniffed angrily. “It’s not fucking fair. Spending money on new clothes just cause I’m huge. They won’t even look good anyway. All baggy and–” I rubbed at my eye from over his shoulder. “And shit.”

A.W. was amused, damn him, but he did begin to croon as he continued to scent, knowing it’d calm me down. “You look good in whatever you’re wearing.”

“Easy for you to say.” He didn’t look like he had a deformed watermelon stuck to his front. You couldn’t even tell if I was carrying high or low anymore, I was just  _ carrying.  _

“It is.” He pulled back. “It’s not my fault I think you’ve never looked more perfect.” I swallowed. I could think of one way it’d be more perfect: if there were still three pups instead of two. I dropped my head to his shoulder, sniffed again and took a deep breath. His amusement melted. “Milo?”

“It’s nothing.”

I don’t know what cued them but the pups started to wriggle around. My eye twitched, fingers curling up spastically at the strange sensation. I couldn’t tell if the tears that fell were happy or sad as I smiled down. I wasn’t sure it could be confined into either category anymore. Because while one was gone, two were very much alive. 

And it was an awful time for me to push, “I want to know what they said to you. To make you get into a fight and get suspended.” I rubbed my tears away with my fists. “I want to know.”

He looked pained. “Now?” He came close, beginning to scent me again. I kissed his face. “Not now. You’re already upset.”

“A.W.” He looked at me pensively. I could tell he was biting the inside of his lip. “Best to get it out of the way. Tell me.”

He took a deep breath. That burning smell came back to him for a moment before he dampered it down. The pups squirmed more, probably in reaction to that. He leaned forward, kept his forehead on my chest as he spoke. “No one knew why we’d lost one. I sure as hell wasn’t giving anyone details at that point. Braxton was curious. Kept poking his nose in. Lindsey was with him at the time. She was fed up by me not giving any answers so…” He dragged in a deep breath. “She told him that it’d probably been a botched abortion. And that the job wasn’t finished.”

I wasn’t breathing. My lungs were too heavy to move. My head dropped. My eyes were dry and unseeing. 

“People are mean as shit when they get into groups,” he huffed. “At least that’s what the counselor told me back in Georgia.”

I didn’t feel myself say the words so much as hear them from an outside perspective. “You should have gutted her. See how she likes it.”

He dug his fingers into my leg. “You know… if we hadn’t been at school, I don’t know how far I would have gone.”

In my head all I could think was: Not far enough. 

He didn’t try to placate me, try to make it better or some shit, and I was glad for it. Nothing could really do that. So we sat there, two murderous sons of bitches staring at the sheets, thinking about violence. 

The next week, he could come back to school. So could Lindsey. 

As our friends slowly got plans together for Lake Erie, I couldn’t wrap my mind around anything other than finding this Beta and making her pay for her words, her accusations, and for what she’d done to my mate. She’d never liked him. Not even when we were kids. 

Beaver and Hannah noticed, giving me strange looks as they picked up on my scent. I tried to keep it dampered. 

A.W. wasn’t going to intervene. If anything, my reactions had flared his hatred back to life. All he did was sling an arm around me as we stood unsmiling. 

I didn’t get an opportunity Monday. 

I did Tuesday. 

I followed her into the bathroom that Omegas and female Betas most often used. And waited. 

The nice thing about being Omega, much less a pregnant one, was that very few people would suspect you were capable of giving in to a baser rage. Sure I didn’t get as fired up as my mate when it came to most things, but we matched in severity when it mattered.

This mattered.

Looking back on it, this had to be one of my more stupid, dickheaded ideas. Did I care? Not really. 


	21. Confrontation

As she stepped out of a stall, I was waiting by the sinks and the door. She didn’t pay attention to how I loitered. 

I was getting major deja vu as I blocked her way out. 

Only then did she look at me. She was taller than me. I didn’t let that stop me. I looked her in her green eye and asked, “How was suspension?”

She wasn’t answering. She looked down to my stomach. I nearly turned away to shield it, cold lacing through me. “So. It’s true.”

“You thought it wasn’t?” I snarled, getting up in her face, a hand in front of my belly just in case.

She shouldn’t have been the one I let out all my words on. It should have been a parent, my mate, a loved one, a counselor. But it was her, an antagonist, that I let it rip, throat tight, voice loud. “My pup had a complication that put him and his brother at risk, and we thought we could save them both. You don’t know how the fuck it feels to have a pup you wanted so badly have their heart  _ burst  _ in you, you don’t know how it feels to listen to three heartbeats and hear one become out of line and hear it stop.” My eyes were dry, but my voice was growing louder and quaking. She stepped back. I followed, grabbing onto the front of her shirt so tight I got my nails into her skin. “You don’t know what it was like to have a corpse of a pup in my stomach while his brothers were alive around him. You don’t know what he looked like when they pulled him out of me– You don’t know how human he looked, even all swollen up and gray and  _ dead _ . You don’t know the fear we went through thinking his brothers would be next. You don’t fucking know anything, you goddamn piece of  _ shit!  _ And you think you can try and spread rumors, shout them at my mate that we killed him– that  _ I  _ killed him myself with a fucking  _ rusty coathanger!? _ ”

She shoved at me with, “Get away from me!”

I wasn’t letting go. “What the  _ fuck _ is wrong with you?! Huh? Why would–”

She shook me off, came at me, looming over me. I kicked out, catching her in the leg, toppling her down. 

She wrenched my own leg. And down I followed.

I walked out of there with a bloody nose, but my head held high, feeling calmer, if still hurt. 

Of course, when A.W. found out, we had to quarantine him so he wouldn’t go after her. If he was caught fighting again– and they  _ would  _ catch him– who knew what the penalty would be. Since he couldn’t go, he stuck to me, glaring at outsiders and keeping his hands on me, covering me over with scent by sheer proximity. At least he didn’t lecture me like Matthew and Hannah did on how it was idiotic of me to pick a fight while pregnant. Lindsey wouldn’t have dared target me there, though. Not in the stomach. I think while part of A.W. was definitely worried, he was also proud. I don’t know if that was normal for mates, but it was normal for us. But for me, just like before, I couldn’t tell if what I was feeling was good or bad. 

I didn’t really pay attention the rest of the day, just going through the motions, which, of course, was awful when it came time for Matthew to tutor me. 

And it was about to get a hell of a lot worse.

Instead of going home and getting a car from either one of our houses to pick me up, A.W stuck with me during the session in the cafeteria. Matthew didn’t seem to mind that he had me on his lap and had his face buried in my shoulder as we worked on catching up in Math. After getting through some probability questions (I hated drawing the ‘trees’), I was glad my mate was there.

Breaking my concentration, the scent of pine, strong enough to choke on– and I did gag a little– hit us in a wave as Sleighton came rolling through the cafeteria, Braxton and Hayley– a self-proclaimed ‘Blossom’– hot on his heels. 

Hayley was Lindsey’s Omega littermate. 

My blood was running cold as they walked in, heading straight for us, winding through the tables.

A.W. had tightened his grip on me, was watching the group of three carefully from just over my shoulder. 

Matthew kept scenting the air. What he and A.W. were picking up on that I couldn’t, I didn’t know, and it scared me to death. 

I fumbled as A.W. scooted out from under me, as he angled himself towards the three. 

Sleighton’s eyes locked with mine. I swallowed. But Alpha or not, I wasn’t about to submit to this douche. 

“What?” I snapped as they came before us, eyes nearly watering with the strength of the pheromones all around me. I sure as hell wasn’t going to try to calm anyone down. Hayley didn’t seem about to either. She had her fingers clawed into Braxton’s letterman’s sleeve, her other hand up to her mouth.

Of course,  _ Sleighton _ answered me. “You think you can start some kind of round two? Braxton already beat your mate– What do you think you’re doing, McCoy?”


	22. The Fallout

My lip was twitching into a snarl, and my mouth was already going before Matthew could stop me, his hand out towards me. “Getting even.” I looked to Braxton. “You were there. You heard what she said.”

A.W. was dangerously close to exploding. Maybe the others didn’t know, but I could feel the strain in his back, I was breathing his anticipation. Matthew was texting under the table.

Braxton replied, somehow uncharacteristically level-headed, “Yeah, but your boy had a chance to get even before. Now Lindsey’s gotten roughed up twice and you guys, only once.”

I pointed to my bruised nose, snapping, “Don’t worry, she got some hits in, too.”

Sleighton took his hands out of his pockets, and I twitched. “It’s not fair, McCoy.”

A.W. stood up slowly. His scent was burning. “Alright. So what do you want? Cause he’s not about to apologize and neither am I.”

I stifled a grunt as one of the pups kicked up into my stomach. It was enough to have A.W. whip around, keeping an eye on me as the tension thickened. 

Matthew, dear, naive, Matthew, stood as well, trying to inch between the two social-dominant dynamics, placating with, “Why don’t we just hash this out with a coffee and a conversation, hm? I’d be happy to moderate, if–”

Braxton started laughing. A.W. rolled his eyes at him, but nodded to Matthew. Matthew stepped aside, his hands curling up, dark eyes flicking between us, giving away nothing but nerves and worry. 

“So?” A.W. prompted. “You want to fight again? Is that it?”

“This time it’s got nothing to do with you, you fucking Epsilon,” Sleighton growled. To my mate’s credit, he did not flinch.

I pushed myself up, ready to bluster my way out of this. A.W. stuck an arm out behind him though, blocking me. He said carefully, “He’s  _ pregnant.  _ What the  _ fuck _ could you have in mind?”

My stomach was churning as I peeked out from around him. I took a few steps to the side so they could see me. “Listen. I get it. I went off the rails today and it was…” I ground my teeth, trying to get the word off my tongue. “... Uncalled for. My bad. You tell Lindsey: my bad.”

Why wasn’t she here, though. That was the strange part– Why hadn’t I noticed the person in question wasn’t even here? I couldn’t smell her anywhere here, though to be fair, the pungent scents right before me covered up nearly everything else. I asked Hayley, “Where is she?”

“Waiting,” she replied. I bared my teeth as adrenaline nearly knocked me over. “She wants round three.”

I fumbled, “I can’t– I’ve gotta go home after this.” Her almost permanent doe-eyes had turned cold. In all my years growing up with her, I’d never seen them this  _ cold _ . “I’m  _ pregnant  _ for Christsake!”

“That didn’t stop you this afternoon.” She twirled a piece of her hair, between manicured fingers, musing, “She might not even graduate thanks to you. She bombed the test she had right after you attacked her. She needed to bring it up. She needed that grade.” She huffed, lips going pouty. “That’s why we’re so pissed.”

“I’m not risking my other two pups for the sake of a _ fucking letter grade. _ ”

Matthew found his voice again to say, “You’re being absurd!” He stepped forward again, cutting in front of A.W., who looked just about ready to lunge, past the point of forming words. “Look, I’m helping Milo catch up. I’d be so glad to help Lindsey, too. It’s a small school, you know! Lots of people willing to help! Including teachers! If they just see you putting in the effort, they won’t let you fail just like that. I– I mean– Who–”

I didn’t hear him after that because I saw a bead of sweat drag down A.W.’s face. I saw it drip down and that made my gaze go down as well, down to his hand, where another drop was trickling down: blood. His nails were dug into his palms, and he was making himself bleed. It was a forced control.

Sleighton was trying to move past a rambling, panicking Matthew to get to me. 

A.W. moved with him, blocking the way at every turn until what was supposed to be a casual step around had turned into a game of reflexes.

“Don’t be a coward, Milo,” Braxton called. “I never knew you were afraid of getting punched.”

Cold kept flushing through me as I realized I didn’t know the intentions this group had for me and my litter once they dragged me out to Lindsey. 

In that moment, I didn’t put it past them to do the worst. And then worse than that.

Braxton was moving past Sleighton and A.W.

A.W. noticed, barking, “Hey, hey,  _ hey _ –” backpedalling to body block. 

I looked behind me to the opposite set of doors. If I ran–

One of them would catch me. I could fall. 

But the chance I’d be faster pregnant than Hayley who did nothing but preen all day was a risk I was willing to take.

I put a hand on my mate’s back.

Then I launched away.

My steps squeaked on the floor– I heard more as the alphas tried to follow, as A.W. and Matthew tried to block them.

I shoved open the doors, keeping a hand on my stomach, reeling at the weight. 

I didn’t look back to see who followed, winding through the hall, taking every turn I could to get  _ out.  _

I was gasping and hanging onto my front with both hands as I pushed open the door to the outside, being met with a hot spring wind.

And Lindsey.

“Ah, fuck,” I huffed, taking her in with her crossed arms and eyes that matched her sister’s. Except for the black one. 

I couldn’t run back. I’d trip. She’d catch me in my back.

“Okay. Okay, what do you want?” I puffed, keeping my back to the brick, glancing to my side to see if there was an opening–

Her anger stunk like a wet dog. “McCoy, I might not get to graduate with my sister now and I’m  _ pissed _ .”

“Don’t you think you’re over–”

“What? Overreacting? Don’t be a hypocrite!” she laughed. “I just want to let loose some steam. Some frustration.”

I held up my hands, not too far away from my belly, sickness rolling through me, the scent of my fear and submission almost covering hers up. “Fine. You win, okay?” I nearly winced at the words coming from me. “You can go ahead and hit me. But just not the stomach. You hear me? Not the stomach.”

She sauntered closer. “I’m not a monster.”

The look in her eyes told me otherwise. I kept my arms around my middle. The pups were kicking; they knew something was happening, from the motion, from the chemicals running through our shared blood. They could feel the blinding panic just like me. 

I didn’t have time to take a deep breath before she threw the first punch, the pain hitting me hard through my cheek, vibrating up to my brain. 

She sank her hand into my hair and pulled, making me look forward for another blow. Reflexive tears watered down my face as she got my nose. They mixed with the blood streaming down from it, and I tasted both coating my teeth as I went down and she came with me. 


	23. No More Payback

All I could do was try to remember how to breathe as her fists came at me, the ring she’d not had on for the sake of washing her hands earlier was now bruising my cheek bone, ripping my skin. I couldn’t even try to block her, to defend myself; my hands stayed where they were, blocking her from my belly should she dare to try– that was all I cared about in those bleeding minutes.

I couldn’t turn my head when I heard the door being thrown open.

I saw a blur of hair and then Lindsey was falling away from me, scrabbling back in the mud and grass.

Abby crouched in front of me, tapping at my face. I nearly reeled back from her pheromones before I realized it was my friend here to help. She crooned and my defenses went down, my head lolling to my chest, dazed.

“Come on, Milo, let’s get you out of here,” she murmured, hoisting me up, getting my arm almost around her thick shoulders.

I started to cry. Not reflex tears but bawled ones. I spit both tears and blood into the grass before she brought me inside. 

It was over. But was it really?

Declan nearly ran into us, then Linus, both breathing hard. Declan hunched to my height, grabbing my face to inspect the damage, cussing under his breath. Linus pushed him gently aside. “Give him some air, dude.” 

Abby got me to a row of chairs against the wall beside the lockers, setting me down gently. “Did she get your stomach?”

I shook my head, wondering when everything would stop being fuzzy. It hadn’t helped that I’d ran before I got beat up I’m sure.

Linus made the alphas give me space as I tested the air for any sign of my mate. “Where’s A.W.? Did they get into a fight?”

Declan replied, roughing up his hair in a frenzy, “I don’t know. Matthew texted us, but we followed your scent instead.” He paced one way then the other. “I’ve gotta go see. I’ve gotta check on him–”

Abby knocked him in the shoulder in signal and then they were off down the hall again, leaving Linus with me, asking, “Should we get you to the hospital, or–”

“No,” I sighed. I swallowed the taste of iron, thick in the back of my throat. “Follow them. I need to–”

“I’m sure A.W.’s fine, Milo. He can hold his own. They’ll meet up with us again. Let’s get you to the bathroom, huh?”

He helped me lean over the sink in the bathrooms and rubbed my back as I spit more and more blood that was coming from my nose, wadding up scratchy paper towels for me to hold and try to stop the bleeding. The bruises from earlier were almost fully developed, the new swollen ones layered on top of them. I bust out crying again because of how awful it looked, how it made my insides turn with grief and frustration. I wanted to see how A.W. had fared. 

Linus hadn’t been too touchy a guy when we were younger, but he kept a hand on my back and dabbed at my cuts with his other and that was more than I could have asked of him. 

I was escorted out and helped along to one of the bean bags in the library. “Where are they?” I asked, anxious, rubbing at my face, teeth grit against the salt in my cuts. 

He stepped aside to call. I heard Declan’s voice clearly asking, “ _ Where are you guys? Same place? _ ”

“Library. Meet us there then we can get them home. What about Sleighton and Braxton?”

“ _ Not a problem anymore. _ ”

“Okay. Come soon.”

He came to sit in the bean bag next to mine and kept on rubbing my back in the silence. 

Soon, I lifted my head from my hands.

I could smell A.W.. I let Linus know and he breathed a sigh of relief. Soon, he could smell him, too, with his Beta nose.

He came bursting in through the doors and didn’t stop a second until he got to me, banged up face and all. 

I let his shirt soak up my tears as he crouched before me, hands on my belly, head in my neck, asking, “What did she do to you? Did she–”

“They’re okay,” I got out, nodding.

He scented me without any shame, holding my sore head with a hand. His pheromones spiked aggressively, and my throat closed up; Linus turned our way. “I’m going to kill her.”

“It’s over, A.W.,” I heard from Matthew as he came in. “No more payback, okay?” He was sweating and crashed into the same bean bag Linus was in with a massive sigh, head going back. 

We didn’t stop scenting, but I asked, “What happened?”

A.W. made to pull back as if to relay it, but I scrabbled at his head, his shoulders, so he wouldn’t. As long as he’d keep scenting me– and me, him– I’d be fine. “Hayley tried to go after you, but Matthew ‘accidentally’ punched her–”

Said friend cut in: “I’ve never punched anyone before this–  _ never!  _ How strong could it have been?!” 

A.W. picked up from there. “She started wailing, and that kept Sleighton and Braxton busy with us. Abby and Declan and Linus showed up.” He let loose a sigh as our mating marks brushed. “They got involved, then Mr. Kierst–” The janitor, “Caught us, and we all split. Abby and Declan went after you while he kept us five.” He sighed again, holding me closer. “It’s resolved. And Abby and Declan and Braxton are fixing the cafeteria up so the teachers don’t notice.”

Even when Abby and Declan did show up, I didn’t stop scenting him until Declan started with his teasing. Even then, it was just so our friends could have a break from our PDA. 

Abby sat cross legged by my feet like some sort of guard dog as my mate and I got our bearings.

“I don’t want to go back home,” I admitted in a small, hoarse voice.

His expression darkened; maybe he was thinking about how we’d been stuck in a hotel for two weeks because of me…

“And if we go to your house, we’ll get in as much trouble. Maybe more.”

He grunted in agreement. 

Matthew offered with a tired wave of his hand, “You guys come to my place. Spend the evening. We’ll get you patched up and ready to face your folks.”

I wasn’t really listening as we piled into Abby’s car– she’d driven back to school after Matthew’s urgent texting– sandwiched between A.W. and Matthew, but I heard Hannah’s name tossed around in the conversation.

It didn’t take long to get to Matthew’s neighborhood; his mother was a doctor (the same that had been with me on the night of Matthew’s party, of course), and his father, a civil engineer (both Betas), so it was one of the nicer ones. Abby parked out front, but we went around, behind the gate, to the backdoor, where three tiny dogs: Mallow, Peanut, and S’more rushed our legs, sniffing our ankles. 

“Back! Back!” Matthew shooed, corralling all three in his arms somehow and letting us in. 

To my surprise, his mother was home, and came rushing at us much the same. I didn’t remember her first name: Sangita? Shree? S–

It finally clicked why she was home when she hefted her luxury-grade first aid kit onto the kitchen counter, and it made me laugh. Until I remembered– 

“Don’t tell my parents,” I asked of her, putting my hands on the counter. “I’ll let them know soon. But not now.”

“Okay, sweetie,” she replied, fussing over me until she got me to sit on one of the bar stools, putting on her bedside manner with, “How far along are you now, sweetheart?”

It made tears spring to my eyes, but I cracked a smile nonetheless. “Midway through the second trimester.”

“Matthew told me what happened– last month after I saw you– I’m so sorry.”

I just nodded, keeping my head down. A.W. slid close, turned my head his way, and kissed my temple, steering clear of a bruise, before following Matthew to try and dig up some nesting material from a hall closet.

Abby took his place by my side as Mrs. Chadha patched me up, letting me squeeze her hand if something stung. Declan was making me nervous, pacing behind us. Linus kept a close eye on him, leaned up against the bar. 

She asked if I was on any medication, and then pulled out some homemade food for me to eat before I took some pain meds. Matthew’s diet consisted of Indian-Philly fusion since he’d been adopted by his Uncle from Philly and that Uncle’s wife who was from India. 

A.W. popped in every now and then as I ate things I didn’t know the name of, leaving me with kisses on my head. My eyes always strayed to his red-bruised knuckles. 

My friends were talking around me. I couldn’t really hear them. Didn’t want to. 

The next thing I knew I was being administered medicine and then brought to a… shoddy… looking nest. It was in the long lounge area in their movie room and, well… The effort was apparent, but the execution was all wrong, the layers piled up, nothing draped, everything folded. I laughed, “Have any of you ever  _ seen a nest? _ ” I looked over at my mate, trying for fondness. “We sleep in one every night you know.” I had to wonder innocently if nest building was really so hard for non-Omegas… 

Our heads popped up from the mess when the doorbell rang. Matthew bolted downstairs.

I pushed some hair out of my face and bent to make a proper nest.

Before I knew it, Hannah was right there beside me, schooling the rest of them on how to properly  _ nest _ . Course it’d never stick. It never really did, bless their hearts.

I went ahead and climbed on in, wrapping part of a blanket flap around my chest, bringing the corner up to scent it. Hannah accompanied, and the whole room was filled with calm, a welcome numbing agent. 

My mate excused himself, leaving me crestfallen, even with Hannah cuddled up to me, everyone trying to decide on a feel-good movie. I rubbed my belly as they chattered, looking down to it, feeling divots from my stretch marks through my sweater, deep down feeling ligaments pulled in places they shouldn’t have been. Just how much bigger was I going to get…? Declan was following A.W. out, and Abby looked lost before deciding that she’d stand by the door like– again– a guard. The Betas came close, but didn’t come inside the nest, fighting amongst each other for the remote before Hannah snapped at them not to be so noisy and snagged it herself.

“Milo, what do you want to watch?” she asked, glaring at Linus and Matthew, who hadn’t thought to ask.

“Beats me,” I mumbled, pushing closer to her, closing my eyes. Yes, I had some of my pack around me, but it wasn’t enough. Where was A.W.?

“Well you get to choose between Up, As Good As It Gets, or Remember the Titans.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Linus looked over one of the pillows. “Can I come in?”

Hannah took a breath, brows already cross, but then she looked to me. I just nodded. He sandwiched me in on my other side, side pressed to mine, but crossed his arms. 

“Snacks? You want food?” Matthew offered, nearly hyperactive to have us all here on a school night (He did  _ nothing _ on school nights besides study.)

I lifted my head to see my mate come in, answering with a hoarse voice, “Yeah he does. He needs to keep eating.”

“A.W., I’m not hungry,” I protested, even if it was a weak one, able and wanting to be swayed. “I just ate.”

“Not enough. If you can stomach it, you should eat,” he insisted, mouth twisted slightly like he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

Hannah and Linus made to move and leave me for his sake, but he hesitated, waving a hand. “No, it’s okay. You guys look comfy.”

I didn’t care if it looked needy or anything when I put my arms out for him. He did a little maneuvering and came to sit behind all three of us, his chin on top of my head, an arm around each friend briefly as he said, “Thanks, guys.”

Matthew brought with him hummus and carrot sticks and guacamole. Declan brought Mallow the dog, a tiny white Pomeranian that he dropped in my lap. Too surprised to protest, I just let the dog do as he pleased as he clambered around the four of us in the nest, wagging his poof of a tail. He barked at the dog onscreen in the opening of As Good As It Gets. 

Slowly, so slowly, I relaxed. My hold on my massive belly loosened. I leaned back against my mate. I took in the scent of our friends around us: happy was sweet from some, clean from others. Sleepy was powdery from some, like baby powder, and wet from others, like the smell of grass after rain. 

But there was also an aftertaste of rubber burnt on asphalt. 

I reached my hand back to A.W., curled it around the back of his neck, and dropped my head to his shoulder, able to look him in the eye to ask a silent question. All he did was nuzzle at me, and smile when Mallow pawed at my belly. Hannah scooped him up and held him, dark eyes reflecting the light from the movie. I let my hand fall, let my eyes shut, and within moments, found myself asleep. 

When I came to, I was aware of the limbs tangled around me. And I was  _ hot,  _ sweat soaking through my sweater. 

Blearily, I accidentally elbowed A.W. in the face as I struggled to pull it off, only for him to hiss to me, “Milo, we’re not at home.”

“Hah?” It took me a minute to confirm, the scent of what was definitely not our nest tipping me off. Also the fact that I had Linus’ head in my lap (it was a surprise– not that I could see it over my lump) and Hannah clinging to me like a koala, both asleep while Matthew and Abby laughed on either side at the movie, Declan nowhere to be seen. 

“Are you hot?” he asked in my ear. 

“ _ Yes _ .”

He shifted behind me, leaning past me over Linus’ side to ask Matthew, “Do you have, like, a really big shirt?”

He snorted, “Do I look big?” 

That’s it. I was gonna strip. I was taking off my sweater when he added, “But, uh, I can go check my dad’s room.”

I managed to wake both friends sleeping on me in the process, and then threw my sweater across the room to the door, crashing back into my mate with a huff. “How am I gonna do summer? Huh?”

He skirted his fingers over one of my bruises and I winced. “Sorry,” he crooned, wincing along with me. 

“Is it bad?”

Linus lifted his head, peeking over my bump to see my face. “... Kinda.”

A.W. asked, “Are you sure you wanna go to school tomorrow?”

Fuck, that nearly made me cry again, the wuss that I am. “I don’t have a choice.” With everyone so tuned into me today, they all noticed when my scent changed because of that. Hannah was sending out calming pheromones. A.W. and Abby were crooning. Linus patted my arm. Declan slid on into the room with big eyes, asking, “What? What happened?”

I didn’t know if I wanted the attention or not, sitting there miserable and aching all over, it seemed. “Just frustrated,” I replied. A.W. rubbed a hand over my shoulder. 

Matthew came back with his dad’s shirt– a big gray thing that looked like it just might fit. I took it with both hands before stopping, freezing. 

It smelled like Beta male. Like Beta male I didn’t know very well  _ at all. _

“Uhh…”

A.W.’s sigh came out almost like a laugh as he took it from me and began to scent it for me. 

Matthew asked the lot of us, “Do you guys want dinner? My mom went back to work, but she and my Dad always prep on the weekends, so everything’s ready to go.”

A.W. handed back the shirt smelling only lightly of him, but it would do, so on it went, even if it did stretch tight over the bump.

I didn’t want to go home to face my folks on a completely full stomach, but the alphas and A.W. were up for it. The three of us left finished the movie and started a new one.

Of course, A.W. came up in fifteen minute intervals to check on me. Every time he turned his back, I frowned. The underlying scent of his anger still hadn’t faded. No one else was noticing, were they? 

I fell asleep again between Hannah and Linus as Into the Spiderverse played in the background. 

Finally, at eight, I made the call to text my parents where we were and what had happened– not like they had bothered to check.

I sat on a barstool after greeting Matthew’s dad (after he made a joke about how he liked my shirt), who ate whatever we hadn’t and waited for my parents’ reply. Declan doing his history project on his laptop next to me kept cutting off croons in his throat and rubbing at it. It was impulse for them right now I guessed.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Nah, you’re good, McCoy,” he assured me. 

Linus and Hannah went home, but Abby stuck around, offering to drive us home. 

Matthew asked out of the blue as I waited and waited, “Why are you nervous? You didn’t do anything wrong.” He tapped the counter. “Well. With the second bit anyway.”

“Something always goes wrong,” I told him, resting my chin on the counter. A.W. was rubbing the back of my neck; that was helping. 

I cut my eyes to Abby, chatting with Matthew’s dad, eating another bowl of food. “Hey, Abby? It’s okay. I think I’d rather walk home.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “It’s kind of far and you’re really–” she just nodded to the bump.

“Yeah, I need to work off some nerves anyway.” I glanced up to A.W., seeing if he was fine with walking. After all, he’d been in a fight, too. He had the bruises to prove it; I knew I’d see more when he undressed tonight. 

Panic shot through me when I heard my notification. All three social-dominants jolted at the scent. My mate read over my shoulder what my mom had written.

: why aren’t you home?! We will have to talk with the school and Lindsey’s parents!

“Yeah, I guess we’ll talk about it,” I murmured, closing my phone, putting it in my pocket. That’s what I had been afraid of. 

: Is Dad home?

: Yes. Do we need to pick you up?

: No.

I didn’t want them to. I didn’t want them to. I wanted it to be like normal with A.W. and me walking wherever we wanted, taking all the time we wanted… 

It was a stalling ploy. 

One that involved holding hands with A.W.. 

The closer we got to my house, the slower I got, until I was just waddling on the side of the road, A.W. looking back every other second. I found myself unable to bring my hand away from my belly. I’d never wanted a smoke as bad as I did now. “Are you okay?” he asked, stopping, rounding me. 

I shifted my large weight from foot to foot, pausing.

I shook my head. “I don’t wanna tell them.”

He slid a hand across my cheek. “But you feel alright? No weird cramping? Your head’s okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m just…” I hung my head, both hands on my belly. “I’m tired. And I don’t know if I’m ever not going to be.”

“Sure you will, honey,” he reassured, a croon to his voice. 

I bit my lips together hard. I was tired too much and I cried too much and it made me hate myself. “I’ve been tired since I was thirteen, A.W.. And once these pups come, I’m not going to sleep for at least another seven.”

Pathetic.

I just closed my eyes, half a mind to shut down and sit down right there in the gravel and scraggly bits of spring grass. So that’s exactly what I did. 

“M-Milo?”

“Just gonna have a sit down.”

He took a moment, watching as I struggled to lower myself down, heaving a sigh once it was done. He sat next to me, poking his fingers in the gravel. I leaned my head onto his shoulder and shut my eyes. 

Life was one big series of problems. The biggest was that it had no pause button.

From growing up with family issues breathing down my back. To smoking. To staying sane in school. To keeping my life my own. Trying to make my family get along with my mate. Unexpected pregnancy. Losing a pup… And just a little further down the road, I’d have to be a full-time father. School. Babies. Work. How would I do any better than my own parents in that kind of situation? 

“I’m not sure what to say…” A.W. admitted. “Everything sucks, that’s true.” He reached his arm around me, brushing a finger over my mating mark. “But I love you. I know things would suck a lot more without you.”

I hummed in agreement. 

“You know what else sucks?” he asked.

“Hm?”

“Sitting here on the side of the road. You could be in a cozy nest in five more minutes.”

I really didn’t feel like moving until these pups had to come out, but he wanted to get going, so it wasn’t off any skin on my back to puff, “Help me up, then?”

Before the nesting, though, we had to get through my parents. As we came up to the front door that was always unlocked, I couldn’t afford to stop, knowing I’d never start again. This house had always been a warzone. Not like this was going to be any different. 


	24. Break and Heal

I grabbed A.W.’s hand before we went in, knowing I’d see my mother perched on the couch first thing.

And the first thing she said was, “What happened to–”

She was overshadowed by my father cutting in, “Milo, what the hell happened to your face?” He glanced to my mate. “Even  _ he’s _ banged up! Did you two  _ fight? _ ” He shot up to his feet, eyes locked on A.W. at the very idea–

A.W. asked, “You think I’d do that?” his grip on my hand as tight as the strain in his clenched jaw.

It was my turn to explain. My stomach rolled. “I… Lindsey.” The back of my neck was burning something fierce and I couldn’t look up as I admitted, “I confronted her in the bathroom today. Over what she said to A.W. last week. Cause–” I shook my head. They wouldn’t get it. “We fought. And then after school, her friends came after us and I couldn’t run fast enough so I made a deal with her. She could hit anywhere but here.” I rubbed my hand over the belly. 

A.W.’s surprise nearly covered over my parents’– that or I was just so tuned into him it seemed that way. That’s right… He didn’t know I’d made that deal. 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” my father snapped, pointing to my belly. I flinched. “Why can’t you just sit still for once and be a normal omega, huh?” I bit the inside of my mouth, an already tender place from the punches I’d taken twice today. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about how I’d cried into his shoulder when I’d gotten home from the hospital and hotel? 

A.W. stepped in front of me. He knew he couldn’t open his mouth; he’d spit all his anger out on my father and how helpful would that be? 

I added in a quiet voice, “We went to Matthew’s house. His mother, a doctor, took care of me. I want to go upstairs now. Good night.”

A.W. stayed at the bottom of the stairs as if to guard until I’d gotten up a good ways and he could follow. 

He kept trying to take care of me, tried to coerce me into a bath for my sore ligaments, tried to coax me into drinking some more water. I felt too guilty at how everyone had been worried for me today to let him do all that. 

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” I kept telling him, staring blankly at a sheet of my history homework, knowing full well I wasn’t going to do it. He didn’t push too hard– I guess he couldn’t help it. I was his pregnant mate after all. There was instinct there to contend with. 

And he loved me… 

It brought a smile to my face, but it hurt a little bit to think about, wondering what his life might’ve been like if he’d stayed in Georgia, was able to take life at his own speed instead of the freefall I’d pulled him into. 

I had to ask, “A.W., why did you leave the movie room? You and Declan were out for a while.”

“Is that what’s eating at you?”

“No– I– I’m just curious. Only a little worried.”

He watched me for a good moment, as if to gauge whether or not to lay it on me. I knew I looked like a mess. It probably hurt to see. Then again, his bruises hurt me, too. His eyes didn’t leave me when he admitted, “I’ve been getting angrier and angrier. I just couldn’t calm down at that point. I was outside. Declan made sure I didn’t break anything. I know him well enough by now that his alpha scent didn’t make it worse.”

I laughed, wryness in my voice, my eyes. “We’re fucked.”

I expected him to counter it. The corner of his mouth lifted, but his eyes did not change. “Sure are.”

I think I was surprised by that, and I was aware now more than ever that he’d been staying positive for me. I’d just been bringing us down. 

It was just as intimate as a scenting the way we watched each other. And our eyes held for a good few minutes. Then, each of us went back to our work, no other words spoken. 

In the middle of the night, I got up, tearing my way out of the nest away from him to bolt to the bathroom. I couldn’t get the toilet open fast enough, crashing to my already bruised knees with a yelp. And I vomited into the bowl. Nails scrabbling on the too-smooth surface, I jerked my pounding head back up. Weak, my head rested on the side of the tub right next to me. 

Nothing was fair.

Tears stung my eyes. 

I didn’t bother to rub them away before they fell. But I knew I was in trouble when my breath hitched.

Hauling myself up by the edge of the tub, I fumbled to flush, turned the bathwater on, and pulled off my pants, my breathing already shaking and erratic. 

It was all I could do to put myself in the tub, pull my knees in up against my belly, and let my head loll, choked up with sobs as everything came rushing out, salt stinging the bandaged cuts on my face, head pounding even harder. 

I didn’t know what I’d tell A.W. if he woke up and found me like this, caving in on myself. To me, it was familiar. I’d done this plenty of times; you let it all out, then you bounce back. But this was the break down I wasn’t sure I’d come back the same from. 

I didn’t want to die. I just wanted it all to stop. Stop and not go until I say so. The next best thing would be a coma. 

Warm water lapped at my legs, and I tore off my bandaids, furious, hurt, scrubbing my face with the water. I leaned against the tiled wall with a shoulder, keeping my hand over my face.

I’d never felt so small, an ant in the shadow of the problems heaped upon my shoulders. 

It hurt even more to try and imagine a perfect world. One where my father had learned how to love and hadn’t traumatized my mother into her own world, where me and A.W. had all the time in the world to take it slow, where we had all three of our pups and all the support in the world to take care of them. Still, I stayed there in that thought.

The water ran until it was over the edge of the tub. Only then did I remember to turn it off and pull the stop, my jaw trembling, eyes still bleary and dripping. I stayed in the cold, wet tub until I was trembling and numbed out and I heard our morning alarm go off in the bedroom. The fear of being caught like this, starting another round of worry with him jolted me up and out, scrubbing my wet head with a towel before wrapping it around me and heading back to the bedroom, where he was looking around the nest blearily, as if I’d be hidden somewhere behind a pillow. I went around to the side he was on and his shoulders relaxed upon seeing me. He fell back into the nest with a murmured, “Where were you?”

“Showering. I was hot.” I leaned over and gave him a kiss, swallowing down what emotion I could bear to. 

His hand came to my cold, pale face. “Not so hot anymore,” he grumbled, yawning. “Shit, Milo, you look rough.”

“Sorry.”

“Why’re you apologizing, dumbo,” he chuckled. He looked up at me again. “You know, if we really tried, I bet we could get you a day or two off from school.”

I ran a hand through his hair. The stripes I used to like to brush over were so grown out that it was hard to distinguish the layers; he’d never put them back, seeing as they were an accident in the first place. “Spring break’s coming up. We’re going to Lake Erie. That’s my break.”

“If you say so.”

You go ahead home today after school. I’ve gotta stick around.”

“Cryptic. What’re you planning on doing?” I lost my words for a minute. He sat up explosively. “Milo? I swear, if you–”

“I’m not! I’m not gonna go after Lindsey. Honest to God.” I wiped some water from my dripping hair off my forehead. “I’m gonna go see Dr. Flannery. Nothing’s wrong,” I assured him. “I’m f–”

“You keep fucking saying that,” he sighed. “I’m your mate Milo. Gotta be honest.”

I was smarting. Embarrassed. Frustrated. I was tired of seeming weak. Was tired of making him worry– that’s why–

I pushed my hair back off my forehead, looking at him clearly. “... I’m having a rough patch and you know that. Don’t make me say anymore. I–...”

He looked down, scrunched up a sheet in his hand. “I’m not hurt you don’t want me to go with you. You do what you gotta do.”

If he wasn’t hurt what was that I was smelling? He  _ knew  _ me. He knew I didn’t articulate these things well. 

I knew I could say one thing he would understand. I don’t exactly know why my ears went red when I said it, leaning over to him, bumping my head to his. “I love you. I don’t want to drag you down anymore.”

“Drag me down?!”

Okay, shouldn’t have added that last part–

He grabbed my head, kept our foreheads together. “You take care of me and I take care of you; that was our deal, wasn’t it?”

“It’s–” I glanced away. “It’s a lot for you.”

His eyes were steely when I looked back. “I’ll decide that.” He took a breath. “We’ve both done a lot of growing up fast. I…” I was staring at his mouth and he’d noticed. “If you think about shutting me up now, I–”

“–I’m not!” 

He stared at me for a brief moment before chuckling nervously. I could see his ears were red, too, now. “You made me lose my train of thought. It’s too early for this.”

“Now you know what it’s like to be in my shoes. Pregnancy brain.”

He blinked a couple times. “Just… Don’t worry about how much  _ you _ think I’m taking on.”

“I do worry because you were gonna quit school and get a job for us.” He frowned; I could feel his brow move against mine. “I want you to be happy and– and successful for yourself… you know? Don’t forget you have to pass this year, too.” I didn’t know how to put it into words for him then; I knew he had my back, I just wanted him to have… less of it. I didn’t want to drain him. If we were both being dragged down, that wasn’t very good tag-teaming. 

“I know. I know…” He was still frowning, still thinking, emotions, feelings, thoughts, being turned into coherent words in a way I was jealous of. “But I– It feels good when I take care of you. It makes me a little less anxious. Little less angry at the world. It feels right. And I know it makes sense because, I mean… you’re my mate and we’re having pups, but…” Ah, he was running out of steam. “Don’t assume it’s all hard work and no pay off.”

In that respect, he was right; I’d been assuming the opposite stance. 

I kissed him once he looked like he wasn’t going to add any more. “Got it.” And then again. Then I pulled back with a tired face. “Eugh. Morning breath.”

“Look who’s talking!”

I may have been exhausted that day, but I was calm. I barely spoke to anyone, even my mate, and stuck close to people I knew for comfort, closing my eyes whenever I could. I didn’t beat myself up for that.

I actually ended up calling an uber after school to get to the doctor’s office. Dr. Flannery wasn’t expecting me, but I figured a walk-in wouldn’t be so bad in a tiny town where I was the only one this pregnant. 

I was right.

The nurse took my blood pressure and temperature and all that, while Dr. Flannery got ready for an ultrasound. Then, when it was just us two, I asked, “Can… Can I talk to you?”

As lame as it had come out, he softened immediately, his eyes big, ready to listen. “Sure thing! What’s on your mind?”

“I’m…” It felt weird to say it. It didn’t feel genuine and I was second-guessing myself so bad I couldn’t look my doctor in the eye. “I’m kind of hating life right now. Going through some shit.”

“... I wasn’t going to ask where you’d gotten those injuries, since the rest of you is fine, but… may I?”

This was going to be like pulling teeth, wasn’t it? I sighed through my nose, relaxing back as he moved the ultrasound wand over my massive belly. “A week or so ago, A.W. got into a fight. It had been, uh… a– maybe two weeks since we lost… since we lost the pup.” For fuck’s sake, I didn’t have time to cry now! “And this kid at school taunted that maybe I’d–” I took a shaky breath, tried to push for a sarcastic smile that wouldn’t come. “Tried getting rid of them…? A.W. didn’t tell me til recently what she’d said, but I lost it. I started the first fight.” His brows raised in a question. “I didn’t get hit in the belly. She wanted payback and she and her friends ganged up on us.” I waved a hand. “I ran. She chased, and… well, she caught me, see, and–” I tried to force the tears in my eyes to be sucked up again. “I made a deal that she could hit me, but she couldn’t touch the pups. She couldn’t touch my belly.” Dr. Flannery was paying full attention, sending out calming pheromones, his hand on mine that was folded over my belly. “So my friends pulled me out of that and I didn’t want to go back home. They were so… caring. And I know it sounds bad, but it made me feel awful. And I feel even more awful for A.W. because of all the shit we’ve been going through with my parents– and I can’t–” I wiped a tear. “I make him worry so much cause– look at this!” I held up my finger with the tear. “I was a cryer before but nothing compared to now!”

“That’s normal, Milo,” he assured me. “It does sound like, on top of the traumatic experience you two just had, you are going through some… shit.”

“I’m so tired all the time, Doc. I was always tired before, but nothing like this. I’m trying to keep my grades above passing in school, but before I was an A-B student! I just feel like–” I stopped, sniffing hard, keeping my breathing even. Maybe being pushed to that emotional state got the truth out of me because I said, “It’s just hit after hit ever since I was a kid and it’s all ramping up and I don’t know what’s going to happen when I can’t take it anymore.”

Dr. Flannery sat back, but kept his hand on mine, taking a moment of silence before handing me the tissue box behind the ultrasound machine. I nodded in thanks and blew my nose. “Take a deep breath, Milo.” I did. I think he meant it metaphorically. I blew my nose again. “It may feel like your life is spiraling out of control– I mean, how couldn’t it? But you’ve got to hold onto what you can control. Start small; keep a schedule. And be gentle with yourself. You  _ must _ be gentle with yourself… That means no more fighting. That means good eating and good sleeping.”

“I can’t sleep. I woke up last night to throw up and then spent the rest of the night crying in the bathtub.” And the memory made me cry even harder. 

“You don’t have to go it alone. You said your friends were there to pull you out.” He patted my hand softly. “Your A.W. loves you very much; anyone can see that. Your friends obviously love you a lot, too. I know your parents aren’t the most supportive, but I’m so glad you feel you can talk to me about this. You’ve got me. You’ve got your teachers. Even A.W.’s parents. You have support. You just have to be comfortable enough to reach for it.”

The words made me angry. Now of all times I wanted to shut myself in, and he was telling me to branch out? He tapped my hand once before lifting off. “And, if you can, when you feel ready, notice the little, good things around you. I can see two right now,” he told me, putting the wand back on my belly, smiling at the screen. “And they’re big and healthy.”

I sniffed, able to smile through the tears at that. I could see one of my pups wiggling on screen the same time I felt it in my belly. “You know, you’re really good at this,” I told him. “I’m not so great at all this… stuff.”

“You got your point across well, Milo, so you did your part,” he smiled. 

“... Are they really okay?”

“Really, truly. Want me to put a heart monitor on them?”

“... No. No, it’s okay.”

“So, what’re you going to do tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“I’m hoping it’ll involve doing something nice for yourself… Or letting someone else.”

I blew my nose a final time so it wasn’t stuffy when I answered, “Homework. It makes me wanna die, but I’ve got to pass this year.”

“You’re almost there. Spring break’s not far. And?”

“And… eat dinner.” I took a second. “Maybe I’ll watch a movie with A.W.”

“That sounds like a nice, quiet night,” he agreed. 

“Hey, for Spring Break, is it okay if I swim in lake water? The gang’s gonna go to Lake Erie.”

His face lit up. “I don’t see why not. The pups are safe and secure, and you’ve got no leakage, so nothing can get in. I’m so happy for you all! That’s bound to lift some stress and make you feel better!”

“I can’t wait to be submerged, yeah. Get all this weight off.”

“Have you tried using a brace of some kind? A band?”

“Nah, all the ones online looked kind of expensive.”

“I’d definitely recommend at least a band when you go into your third trimester.”

“I can’t imagine it getting any bigger…” I made a face. “Have you ever seen a belly this big in my week of pregnancy?”

“I have: an omega woman with four pups in there. It was back in my residency.” He tapped his chin. “I think because you have a thin frame to begin with, it just looks proportionally bigger.”

“Probably…” I watched as he wiped the gunk off my belly. “Hey… Thanks, Dr. Flannery.”

“Any time, Milo,” he returned. “I’m here to support and help you, even after you have these pups. You’re all my patients and I’ll take care of every aspect of you. You have my cell, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Call if you’re ever having a rough time and you can’t get to me. Even at night.”

“I’m not–”

He rubbed his chin, a twinkle in his eye. “Think of it as an exercise in learning to rely on people more.” He pointed at me. “Cause you’re worth it, kiddo.”

“I swear, if you make me start crying again–”

I left the office with a lighter heart and a brighter outlook. I don’t know, things just seemed more positive. And I was more than willing to try out the advice from a doctor.


	25. Take Care of Me

The first thing was I gave into my body’s desire to sleep. With my mate crooning from one side of the room, and me tucked into the nest wearing one of his shirts, I fell asleep lickety split. He woke me up for dinner like I’d asked and all four of us actually sat down to a meal– even if it was bag salad topped with freezer-chicken nuggets. To be honest, I was still sleepy when we went back upstairs, and the thought of homework filled me with enough dread that I had half a mind not to do it. The other half of my mind was too scared of getting even more behind, so that took care of that. Until about ten fifteen. 

A.W. was busy scenting the stuffed animal collection we’d been working on for the pups, laughing intermittently at a video, sitting cross-legged on the carpet. 

It really shouldn’t have been that distracting, but all I could think about were the times he’d snuck out to come scent me and my clothes when I’d go on those ‘dates’. It was like a switch was flipped.

I crawled on out of the nest, completely forgetting about the remnants of my homework, quietly asking him as I knelt down before him, “Me next.”

His eyebrows shot up, and he nearly dropped the stuffed lamb before glancing to the line of animals on one of the plastic storage tubs. “... I don’t know, Milo. There’s a pretty long line.”

I narrowed my eyes and made a face, gesturing to the line of nonsentient  _ fluffs.  _

He joked, “Don’t you have homework to finish?”

“No,” I lied. He raised an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes, actually managing to get a little impatient. Especially as he kept scenting the lamb, his eyes locked on mine… 

Yup. That was it. We weren’t watching a movie tonight.

I tried to while my way closer to him, cooing, “Alistair... Honey… Sweetheart… Epsilon…” Something sparked in his eyes at that, and it was good. That did it for him. It wasn’t abnormal by any means to call someone their dynamic. I guess his experiences had generally been negative– but not anymore. I crawled a bit closer, and it almost looked like I was going to get my way. He put down the lamb, leaned forward… and reached for a black bear behind me, smirking something awful, his ears flushed pink. “Oh my God,” I whispered, half in shock. Was it not  _ clear  _ I was in  _ need?  _ Wait, was he not feeling it? I needed him to give me a clear answer–

Sleepy and frustrated and ready to have his hands and scent all over me, I put my hands on his knees, pushed forward to the bear, muttering, “No. No..” Even as he kept scenting it and not  _ me _ . 

“I said there was a line. Sorry,” he shrugged. 

Frowning, I brought my wrist up to his scent gland on the other side and rubbed before bringing it to mine. Nowhere near enough. I pushed my head into his chest, still gently trying to fumble the bear out of his hold. “Come on,” I protested. “A.W.!”

I began scenting his chest, however slowly, however clumsily, not caring if I was whining, calling him by his name, calling him by his dynamic. 

Just one more time– “Epsilon!” I drew out, headbutting his chest softly.

Again, that seemed to do it. I was outrageously pleased (more than I should have been) when he tossed the bear over my head onto the box and pulled me in closer than I already was. I was practically purring when we scented properly, my eyes closed, my fingers tangling lazily in his hair. He mouthed up the side of my neck and my fingers squeezed. “Milo,” he breathed onto my skin, “You wanna?” 

“God, yes.”

I was too impatient to get to the nest, so up against the wall it was. I had my forearms planted on one of the tubs, a knee cocked to off-center the weight of the belly. I felt myself roll forward with every thrust, the sensation somehow both strained and thrilling. He kept his mouth on my mating mark, teeth latched in their old scars; it served to muffle him and to fuel our flames. His hands raked over my chest, over my belly, across my hips, fingers digging in. I just held on and got swallowed up in the sensations he brought me. 

He lifted up to whisper in my ear, “Soon,” kissing just beneath it, making me shiver and whimper and push back against him harder, my head falling forward between my arms as I huffed and tried to catch my breath every time. My lips were forming words but I couldn’t tell what they were as I breathed them over and over like a prayer. His hand was shaking as he reached to my front, and within seconds my arms were shaking, too, my teary eyes blown wide as I was coaxed into finishing. 

I realized the words coming from me: Knot me.

And he did, teeth buried in my mating mark, hands on my hips. I cried out at the sensation, too unbearably full being pregnant and not in heat. I guess it wasn’t so bad, because my front was leaking again. I couldn’t even think straight, making these high-pitched sounds as I breathed and finally caught my breath. 

My knees were shaking.

They finally gave way and A.W. had to bolster me before I found them again. 

“Okay,” he muttered. “Okay.”

Wrapping his arms around my chest, he brought me up against him, and carefully moved us around, planting his back against the wall, using it to help us slide down to sit. I got louder feeling him go deeper in me, and he rolled his neck and sighed, pushing his forehead into my shoulder. One hand of his was on my waist, holding the side of my belly, the other was wiping away tears and drool from my face carefully. My head fell backwards, craned onto his shoulder, my spine bending. 

“Is it painful?” he asked, a hand slipping down to my hip.

I couldn’t speak, just shook my head. It was not painful. It was just full. Full. 

And I was mortified to look down and see my belly visibly moving as the pups kicked around. I still didn’t speak, just took his hand from my hip and brought it to the belly with a wide-eyed look back at him that matched his own. 

“Are… Are  _ they  _ okay?” he asked. “Did they get… I don’t know, shaken?”

A laugh burst out of me, my voice strained and high when it came out. “Yeah. Yeah, I think they did. Should be–” I took a breath. “Fine. Just fine.”

He just shook his head at those overused words of mine.

By the time he could pull out, I was already dozing off, and had half a mind to make him leave me alone to sleep instead of him going to the effort to clean me up. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t used to the manhandling in the shower, it’s just that more and more of me became deadweight the more my belly grew, looking like a third-trimester Beta’s by now. Nodding off every so often as he sat me on the edge of the nest, he pulled my arms up, got one of his shirts on me, then pulled it up to rub the belly balm on before letting me flop back into the nest.

I was out like a light.

I slept through our alarm the next morning, and instead, woke with his nose in my neck and a hand on my stomach. 

We stuck new bandaids on each others’ faces and were off in no time. 

Now, I wouldn’t call my disposition… chirpy, but I was definitely feeling a little better than I had yesterday. 

I was determined to keep that hope with me. Come hell or high water. Or both. 

Of course, both didn’t happen, not here in Pennsylvania. 

And it wouldn’t happen in Ohio either. Not even on Lake Erie.


	26. Spring Break!

It was going to be ten of us going: Abby, Linus, Declan, Beaver, Ronnie, Hannah, Matthew, me and A.W., and one of Beaver’s littermates that went to PCS (Punxutawney Christian School), an Alpha nonbinary kid nicknamed Wren. Now, we’d all met Wren before, but no one really spent a lot of time over at Beaver’s due to the already huge influx of kids. Still, the new face wasn’t an issue for our roadtrip, with Abby taking the first shift on driving, Matthew in the front seat to navigate, and four of us squished in each three-seater row. I was a little wary of the new Alpha scent they presented, sitting in the middle of the first row, so I chose myself a spot between the window and my mate in the way back. Besides, I trusted A.W. to give me enough room without me needing to growl at him.

Matthew was feeding Abby twizzlers as we got onto the highway, as we blared some old songs from our earlier childhood, as voices filled up the small space to drown it out. 

A.W. had his chin resting between the headrests before us, chatting up Wren and Linus sitting next to them. “Okay, but since PCS is private, does that mean you guys had to do the pacer or not?” he asked.

Wren replied, leaning their head back, “Hell yeah, we had to do it. Scores didn’t matter. Bragging did.”

Linus looked up from his old DS. “I used to sit that out or go hide in the bathroom or something. Why bother?”

A.W. chimed in with a huge smile, “I used to try and trip the assholes I didn’t like.” I looked down to where he was sitting on the edge of his gray seat; if he had a tail, he’d be wagging it. Soon I was smiling, staring. Until I noticed Declan giving me a look from around my mate, scrunching up his nose. Ronnie was fake-gagging.

“Oh, come on,” I huffed, rolling my eyes at the alpha and omega. It was the running gag of how our coupling fit into the friend group. That gag was stifling today. Not all days. Just today.

“Huh?” A.W. asked, looking back around to me; he could tell. “Something wrong?”

“Nope. Nah, we’re fine,” I assured him. He went back to his conversation. I pointed to Declan. “Declan. Give me the Doritos.”

He turned to Ronnie beside him, who had the bag crushed between his knees, dust coated on his fingers. “Ronnie. Doritos.”

Ronnie frowned. “But I called  _ dibs, man! _ ”

Declan glanced back to me. “Come on, please?”

I crossed my arms over my belly. Ronnie whined, “In a minute!”

Declan looked back to me. I just pointed to the bag. He said in a mild panic, “You know I can’t take them!” It was true, his dynamic wouldn’t let him do that, not with Ronnie being as clingy as he was and me as insistent. Caught between two opinionated omegas, what could he do? I tried not to let my smile show, to keep up the facade.

“Milo, stop messing with them,” A.W. said, looking over his shoulder.

I pursed my lips, eyes narrowed. 

Abby looked in the rearview, calling, “I smell a fight and I  _ will  _ turn this car around.”

“We’re not fighting,” Ronnie complained. “Milo just can’t be patient.”

“He’s pregnant, Ronnie,” Hannah sighed, in the front row against the opposite window, braiding a segment of her hair absent-mindedly.

“And  _ I’m _ hungry!” he retorted.

Beaver, next to his littermate, handed A.W. a different bag– cool ranch– and he in turn offered it to me. “Yeah, I’ll take it,” I admitted. 

Declan sighed, closing his eyes. “Thank  _ God. _ ”

“How much longer now?” Ronnie yowled in the silence.

In an effort to quell our nerves here in the back, we started a game of ‘explaining a film plot badly’. 

Linus offered, “Eccentric billionaire does cosplay.”

“BATMAN!” A.W. shouted.

“No.”

“DAMMIT!”

Wren attempted, “Is it… Is it actually cosplay?”

Linus made a buzzer noise. “Can’t answer.”

Matthew was running DC superheroes under his breath before Hannah crowed, chin high, “Iron Man!”

“Ding ding ding!”

“Oh well,” A.W. chuckled. “I like marvel better anyway.” 

“I’ve got one!” Matthew called back to us, twisting with a pained groan and a face. “Okay…  _ Stockholm Syndrome. _ ”

Hannah blurted, “Beauty and the Beast.”

He pointed. “ _ No. _ ”

“Phantom of the Opera?” Wren tried.

“Dude, we need more than that, come on,” Declan complained to Matthew.

Matthew wiggled his fingers. “Stockholm Syndrome in a younger sibling left by parents and emotionally cut off by sister.”

Declan smacked the back of a seat. “MORE.”

I tapped my fingers on my belly, not thinking too hard, half of my mind thinking about how when I swam, the pups would be swimming  _ while swimming.  _ I was officially gonna be submarine-dad.

“Frozen.” Beaver declared almost too seriously. 

“Actually, yes,” Matthew frowned. “Dangit…” 

A slow frown began on my face as my scent changed with a realization of mine. A.W. was the only who noted the small change, sitting back, asking his silent question with just a look. 

I rubbed my face with my hands. “I gotta pee.”

“Already?” he asked quietly. 

I nodded. 

He announced, “Guys, can we stop? Milo has to–” I scrambled to get my hands over his mouth. 

“If no one’s against it, I can just piss into a bottle. No stop.”

Hannah turned around to me with big eyes. “I don’t think so, Milo McCoy. You are going to a proper bathroom where you will use a proper toilet.”

“One gas station, coming up,” Abby announced.

Still, my ears were red. I muttered to my mate, “I don’t know how I’m gonna get out of here.” Meaning the back seat.

“I can get out and yank you– or Linus; he’s right there. He can pull and I can push.”

“More snacks!” Ronnie squealed, kicking his legs. 

We made six bathroom breaks for me and one for Abby during the entirety of our ride. And at each stop, we got snacks of some kind: gravy fries, popcorn, powdered donuts, slushies, nachos,  _ glazed  _ donuts, you name it. So by the time we got to the house at around five, we were stuffed and sluggish. It was a real nice place on a small cliff overlooking the lake, surrounded by big droopy trees that shaded our eyes from the lowering sun over the water. 

We dropped our bags on the wood floors as we gawked at how nice it was, Hannah sighing, “It looks like it's from out of a magazine. Like one of those design magazines…” 

Wren dropped themself on one of the white couches facing the glass-fronted fireplace, Beaver scolding, “Don’t you get that dirty!”

“I’m clean, I’m clean,” they responded. 

My mate left our things by the door to look out the paned windows behind the couch, nodding to himself. 

Abby’s voice broke the quiet. “I call a queen bed!” She thundered up the stairs.

I nudged A.W. as everyone scrambled to call dibs on sleeping places. “Good thing we already claimed the king.”

“Fuck yeah, we deserve a master bedroom.”

“Ah, ah. Master  _ suite. _ That’s what it said online.”

“Even  _ better. _ ”

He helped me up the unfamiliar stairs I couldn’t even see– thanks to my rotundness– before lugging our things up. I sat in one of the chairs backing the windows our bed looked out on before noticing the door to the balcony outside.

Abby found me, and I assumed she’d already staked her claim as she leaned on the red-painted railing with me, watching the sunset through the thin tree limbs. She took a deep breath of satisfaction and let it out again, looking over at me with a smile I returned. 

It was beautiful, peaceful. And I couldn’t help but sigh my own sigh at the sight. 

Soon we were bombarded by the rest of the group all shoving to get out, Declan and A.W. even growling at each other as they couldn’t both fit through the door at the same time. 

“I swear, if we break this roof…” Linus trailed off. 

Still, we all somehow fit on the small balcony, and the sounds of my friends enjoying themselves was a wonderful background to that sunset.

Despite my silence, A.W. could tell I was happy. He nosed my cheek. I took his hand on the railing. Declan stuck his tongue out at us, and Hannah yelled at him. All was well with the world for once.

A.W. and Matthew and Beaver drove further into Cleveland to pick up some dinner while the rest of us settled in. Turns out Abby didn’t get her personal queen bed; she got an air mattress in the living room instead. Linus and Ronnie were going to share the queen bed. Wren and Beaver were going to take the bunkbed bedroom. Declan was going to sleep on another air mattress wherever he decided to drag it (he’d threatened the kitchen and then the stairs). Hannah called the sofa bed in the living room, and Matthew, the couch. 

Ronnie was helping me build an emergency nest using the provided materials in the master closet while I re-scented what things I’d brought, even snatching a shirt of A.W.’s to put in there. Nothing was the matter, it was just a new place and I couldn’t stop rubbing my belly, unfounded anxiousness coming to bite me in the ass. 

Hannah and Linus joined us to sit in it, the lot of us drowsy from junk food and travelling, the only sounds being Declan and Wren goofing off climbing trees outside (despite the high-heeled boots Wren had been wearing), and Linus’ DS. 

“What do you think is for dinner?” Ronnie asked, voice as bleary as his eyes, head on my side.

“Dunno… I guess pizza would be obvious, right? I could go for some pasta, though.”

“Like spaghetti and meatballs?”

“Nah, like Alfredo and shit. Garlic bread.” I groaned at the thought. I could kill for garlic bread… Before I knew it, my veins were burning with the need for it, irrational as it was. I broke our quiet in a few more moments by moaning, “I want garlic breaaaad.”

“Not the weirdest craving,” Hannah joked, rising up from a pillow.

I flinched as the pups moved unexpectedly in unison. “Woah, there…”

She asked, “Can I?” nodding to my belly. I gave her the go ahead, along with the rest of them, too, and that was how A.W. found us, me sprawled on my back like a turtle unable to flip over, all three sets of hands moving around my belly feeling the pups’ movements.

His first reaction was to threaten them away, but he quickly curbed the scents he was putting out when I greeted, however strained, “Hi, there.”

“This looks like some kind of weird ritual, you guys sitting in a dark closet with your hands on the belly.”

Ronnie popped up to his feet, asking, “What’d you guys bring?”

“We stopped by Applebees and got a whole ton of huge appetizers to share.”

“Garlic bread?” I asked, hope in my voice. Linus rolled me to my side and helped haul me up like he’d been doing all day. I patted his shoulder in thanks.

A.W. shook his head. “I… don’t think so.”

“Oh…” 

There were spicy wings, weird wonton-taco fusion things, mozzarella sticks, nachos, a giant pile of salad dripping with ranch… but no garlic bread. 

I bet my friends thought I was crazy digging through the empty cabinets trying to find out if there were any spices here for cooking. Cooking what, I had no idea, as I opened the cabinets over and over compulsively. It didn’t feel like a craving anymore; it felt like I was just  _ so _ angry at garlic bread in general– I don’t know if there’s a better way to describe that. It was hard coming to terms with how much more pissy this pregnancy made me. I managed to be distracted by being pulled onto the couch for a movie.

But once we were all in bed by two in the morning, my mate sound asleep beside me, an arm flopped near my head– the space a king-sized bed provided was a luxury compared to my extended full– I had my arms crossed and I was, yeah, you guessed it, pissed. 

My mouth kept watering, and it got so bad I was digging my nails into my hands.

Sleep wasn’t gonna come any time soon.


	27. Gimme Your Fuckin GARLIC BREAD

Slipping out of bed, pulling on one of A.W.’s shirts, I buttoned it up hastily as I left the room, tiptoeing my way downstairs back to the living room. Hannah and Wren were asleep on two different couches, but Abby was on her the mattress close to one of the windows. It took me a while to actually crouch, grabbing the wall as best I could for support, puffing as I managed to squat by her head, leaning over her. 

And then I poked her. 

“Abby.”

She wasn’t moving, wasn’t stirring, sprawled out on her front. 

I rolled my neck, sighed quietly to myself; was this what I’d become? I shook her shoulder gently “Abby…?”

Her face didn’t move when she blinked open the eye nearest to me. “Wha..?”

“I’m so sorry, but can I borrow the car?”

She began to sit up, sniffing around me, trying to get past my mate’s scent. “What’s wrong? Is something happening, dude?”

I rubbed the back of my neck, mortified as I grumbled, “I want garlic bread…” She blinked once. Twice. “You want any? I can bring you back whatever you want, Abs, please?”

“Are you–” she yawned torrentially, “Are you sure you can drive? Can pregnant people drive?”

“Sure I can drive! I’ll just sit away from the wheel, that’s all…”

She nodded, rolled over to grab her bag, then froze, looking over her shoulder at me with narrowed eyes. “... Milo you don’t have a fucking license.”

I paused. I spread my hands, and they could’ve turned into awkward jazz hands at any moment. “... But I know how to drive…?”

“Nope. Make A.W. take you.”

“He’s asleep!”

“I was, too!”

“I’m sorry!”

If need be, I’d walk– Wait, no. Bad idea. I didn’t know this city or the people in it. “Go get Declan.”

“He’s gonna kill me! Why can’t I ask Matthew or somebody?”

“He can’t drive for shit and you know it. It’s either Declan or Hannah and  _ you know it _ . Or, ya know,  _ your mate. _ ” Guilt was eating me up… But the hunger for garlic bread was bigger than that. It was bigger than almost anything… She sighed and handed me the keys, telling me more gently, “I don’t need anything. You get someone to take you to get your garlic bread, though. Nighty night.” And with that, she rolled over again.

I swallowed hard as I inched myself up into standing straight again. 

… I’d ask Ronnie. He was spastic, but did have a license. 

I heaved myself back upstairs, puffing heavy breaths, a hand on my back as I bent forward, and went into the queen-bed bedroom that Ronnie and Linus were sharing, pushing open the door to find Linus curled up into a ball and Ronnie, closest to me, with the sheets half flown off, snoring something awful since he was on his back. 

It masked the sound of my creaking on the wood floor as I entered. 

I poked at him same as I had with Abby. “Ronnie. Ronnie…”

I heard Linus take a deeper breath, roll over with his eyes open as Ronnie woke up, his snores cutting off. I looked between them, hissing an apology to Linus.

“What’s up?” Ronnie whispered back.

“... I want garlic bread. Can you drive?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Uh– Sure, but you’re not going out in your boxers and– is that A.W.’s?”

My ears were burning. “I’ll change. I’m craving it something awful, though.”

“It’ll be an adventure,” he purred, sitting up, stretching, suddenly his energetic self. 

Linus pushed up, too. 

“Linus, you can go back to bed. I’m sorry I woke you up,” I apologized again.

“No, I wanna come.”

They got the car going while I waddled back to my room to pull on some shorts that sat below my massive bump. My adrenaline was going as I hopped in the front seat, Linus on his phone in the back. That reminded me–

I pulled my maps up on my phone and told Ronnie, who was somehow bright-eyed and bushy-tailed even now. “There’s this place called Fabio’s Pizza. It’s open until four.” 

It took us only a couple of minutes to get there, but when we did, we were informed that they only did delivery at these hours, so we waited in the car, listening to the Native American artists Abby had in her car that somehow mixed country with a banjo and traditional drumming. It was like we were in a whole other dimension as we sat there in the dark, literally everything unfamiliar at this point.

Until a lanky female brought out our order to us. 

I nearly cried in thanks as she handed the brown bag to me through my open window, and as I opened up the foil packaging of one of the two orders of garlic bread– aside from the pepperoni and spinach pizza Linus had ordered– my fingers shook. 

My eyes closed as I took a big whiff of the buttery, garlic smell. Actual tears did form as I looked down on it, as I took the biggest piece and fucking shoved it into my mouth. 

I was dry-sobbing to my friends as I chowed down, “I love you guys; really. I really love–”

“We get it, crybaby,” Ronnie joked, grabbing a slice of the pizza. No one  _ dared _ take some of my bread. 

It was the best thing I’d tasted in my whole life. 

Since we couldn’t stay parallel parked there for long, we ended up driving a little ways past a historical cemetery to stay in the tiny parking lot of an orange-bricked church, getting out of the car, sitting on the hood, the top, the music wafting softly out into the humid night air. 

Linus murmured from over what had to be his fourth slice of pizza, “This trip is already going well.”

I sighed in delayed relief, glad they really were okay with coming out this late at night. Ronnie ripped half of his crust with his teeth, asking from around it, “We’re going to the beach tomorrow, right?”

“Probably. At least, when everyone gets up.”

I brushed herbs from my fingers, noting, “We’ll have to get breakfast then, too…”

And that’s when the idea came to Linus. The idea saw us in a gas station’s 24 hour convenience store buying milk, juice, eggs, cereal, fruit, yogurt, stocking up on those nasty breakfast burritos laying on the rollers. 

When we got back to the house, we had to literally step over Declan in the kitchen to put away the groceries. I thanked my friends and they helped a wobbly me up the stairs. 

Full and content, I had a bathroom break and brushed my teeth again before climbing back into bed next to A.W., who stirred a little at the intrusion. I reached over to him– he seemed miles away in this huge bed– stroked a hand over his cheek, down his arm. He sighed and stilled once more. I didn’t expect him to open his eyes, however blearily, but when he did, I pulled myself closer to him, ignoring the strain it took to move all of me, and began leaving kisses on his face. He sighed once more, stretched out his neck, and I scented him, moving slowly and gently so as not to hurt his chances of getting back to sleep. I think he fell asleep quickly after, because once I pulled back, his eyes had fallen shut again and his lips were parted, little breaths puffing out. I rolled back to my side, took my pregnancy pillow (Moony) and stuffed it underneath the side of my belly, absent-mindedly scenting up at the top of it, rubbing both mine and my mate’s scent into it. Even after the pregnancy, it’d make a wonderful addition to the nest for our newborn pups because it smelled so strongly of us. I fell asleep thinking about how I’d set up the nest for that, how the pups would have a little divot in the blankets and pillows, so as not to lose them or make it hard for them to breathe. Odds were, I’d be holding one or both quite often. And I looked forward to it; at least, it had to be better than having them kicking up into my ribs. 

I got up before my mate did, having to piss something awful, and while I was tempted to roll myself back into bed and shore up the sides of the weak nest I’d built around us, the sounds from downstairs got me curious. 

Careful as I descended the stairs, I saw Wren and Beaver attacking each other with dish towels as whips, Linus curled up– asleep?– on top of the granite counter, and Hannah trying to ignore the chaos that the siblings created. 

“Wren, NO!” Beaver kept saying as his littermate advanced with a cackling, wielding two towels they swung around their brother’s head. Beaver managed to grab one and tossed it; it ended up fluttering down on top of my head. 

“Yeah, good morning,” I greeted, swiping it off my face.

“Morning, Milo,” he returned sheepishly, going over to take his towel and check me over, sniffing carefully. “Did you sleep well? I heard you guys went out last night.”

I patted his arm. “I’m a little heartburny, but yeah, I needed the garlic bread.”

Linus groaned from the counter, “The pizza was so good but it's sitting in my belly like a rock.”

I went over to him, petting his head. “Poor baby; try that with your stomach squished between two squirming pups.”

He just groaned again. 

Hannah put me and Wren to work cracking eggs– so many eggs. 

“Where’s Declan?” I asked my fellow egg-cracker. “I thought he slept here last night.”

“Yeah, but me and Linus dragged his mattress outside.”

“And he didn’t wake up!?”

Wren shook their head, laughing. 

“He’s gonna be  _ pissed. _ ”

And a few minutes later, he was, slamming the door shut behind him as he roared, “GUYS, WHAT THE FUCK?”

I shied a bit from the wrath, as did Beaver and Hannah. Linus just rolled over with a laugh, and Wren kept their eyes down as they bit their lips shut to keep in their own laughs. 

“Good morning,” Hannah said. “Reel it in. Or I’m not giving you any eggs.”

Abby came in and placated her alpha buddy. I snuck the poor guy some toast before anyone else got some. He chucked it at Linus’ head, and it bounced to land by his stomach, so Linus just picked it up and started eating, go figure.

Most of us were up for breakfast with the exception of Matthew, Ronnie, and A.W.. And after cleaning up, we made plans for the day. Wren and Abby wanted to explore the actual park area near the beach, Hannah wanted to go shopping and reeled me in with her. Linus sat himself outside as we were all leaving, just playing on his DS in the fresh air. 

Later on, about five, when the sun wasn’t as hot, when Hannah had bought all the knick knacks and swimsuits she could carry, and Wren and Abby were all banged up from hiking, we all reconvened at the house

I found my mate with Declan and Matthew in what looked like some communal napping ritual, the air mattresses pushed into a three-pointed star, Ronnie building up a nest around them as they slept; he stopped laying blankets around their circle to attack us with questions about what we’d bought, hanging onto me as Hannah pulled everything out: fridge magnets and antique nightlights, special ornaments and jewelry made from beach glass– anything shiny she could find. 

I gently disentangled from my bud to pick my way into the spread out nest Ronnie had built around our friends. It took effort to squat myself down near A.W., and the weight after standing all day made my pelvis sore inside, but I tucked the tiny bottle of lake shells near his hand before running a hand down his cheek, kissing it, and hefting myself back up.


	28. Garlic Bread Ruined My Night

By six, we were all up for the beach.

Wren and Abby had stopped at the dollar store for some stuff like an umbrella to shade from the sun and heat, and even some sand toys along with some balls.

There were a fair amount of people on the beach at that point, but we staked our claim on an unused patch of sand, Declan helping Hannah stick up the umbrella; she laid out the towels and opened the cooler for drinks. 

I grabbed Ronnie’s hand and the first thing I did was get in that water. Though it was warm on the surface, the deeper I went, the colder it got, which felt amazing on my joints.

Until he decided to start a splash war.

Laughing and spluttering, we were spitting water and bobbing around– he decided to press his unpregnant advantage, wading all the way back to the beach, taunting me with, “Come on, whale-boy!”

“I’M NOT–” Still, I chased him up and down the beach anyway, and when we came back to the group, we found Declan and Wren fighting Beaver and A.W. in a chicken fight in the lake. I called to my mate on the bottom half, “Don’t drown, dude!” 

“YEAH, NO SHIT!” he yelled as he took another tumble, trying so hard to keep Beaver up on his shoulders. 

By the time the sun was setting, I was building a sandcastle with Abby and Hannah beneath the umbrella, using the plastic molds on the sand, the three of us quiet and pooped as we worked, and for me, maybe just a little sunburned. 

Yeah, until  _ Ronnie  _ decided to step on on of my towers. 

I was grinning as I chased after him, waddling the best I could, herding him towards the water where I’d have an advantage.

“MILO, YOU’RE TERRIFYING!” Declan called from the water, over Ronnie’s spastic giggles. 

“It’s cause he’s so huge!” Ronnie taunted, and I lunged after him, managing to hook his head under my arm, scrubbing at his wet mop of a head as he choked on his laughter. He got his arm around my shoulders and dunked me, and from there it was basically wrestling. 

Declan hopped on over to join in, considerably more gentle until he realized he wasn’t gonna get anywhere with that approach. 

That was how I ended up squatting on top of his shoulders, desperately trying to keep my balance, trying to not make him drown beneath my weight. 

“Okay! Okay toss me!” I yelped.

“HUP!” He ducked down into the water, and it washed over my feet before suddenly I was boosted up, airborne for only a split second, my body rid of all its weight– Until I crashed back down into the water. 

I came up bright eyed. “DUUUUUDE!”

“DUUUUDE– Me next! Me next!” Ronnie insisted.

And that was how Declan ended up so sore (seeing as he was being a literal diving board) as we all sat watching the stars on the beach, wrapped up in towels. I had my wet head pressed to my mate’s shoulder and he had his arm behind me. I whispered up to him, “You smell like lake.”

He ducked his face down to mine. “You do, too, you know.” It wasn’t bad. Kind of earthy, not like the sea. “Are you hungry?” he asked, scenting at the top of my head as I looked over to Wren and Beaver arguing over the constellation map one of them had pulled up on a phone, Matthew explaining astronomy to Abby who looked about ready to fall asleep, just like Linus had, spread eagle on the sand. 

“Tired,” I admitted.

He laughed and I looked up to nuzzle him. “Why wouldn’t you be? It’s been a big day.”

“Yeah, and you slept through all of it.”

There weren’t many people left on the beach, so I think that was a good thing when Ronnie wailed, pulling his towel over his head, “Guys, I have a crush.”

All heads turned. 

Ronnie?  _ Ronnie _ had a crush? Had he ever had one before? 

“Not you think you have, you  _ have? _ ” Hannah asked.

Why was he sad about it? He brought his knees to his skinny chest. “Yeah…”

“Who?” Declan asked, leaning around to see.

“One of my sister’s friends. She’s in college but she visits a lot.” I think I remembered her; at least her scent on Ronnie. And she was a– “She’s a beta.”

“... And?” Linus pushed, suddenly awake. 

“Well, I mean… I don’t know how my parents would– how they’d think about that. Since I’m an omega and all.”

“That shit doesn’t matter, Ronnie,” I reminded him gently. “The college thing is a little more challenging.”

He shook his head, “I know it shouldn’t but–” He sighed, “I don’t know how she’ll see me either. I mean, I’m her best friend’s little omega brother.”

I waited for someone to say something clever, some good advice. I looked to Hannah, for one. She dragged in a breath. “So how much older is she?”

“About three years.”

“You really like her, huh?”

“... Yeah. But I’m done with unrequited love and stuff like that. That gets no one anywhere.”

Abby folded her hands behind her head. “I wish I had a crush. I can’t remember the last time I had one…”

Ronnie replied, “Wasn’t it that omega girl visiting during groundhog season last year?”

“How do you remember that, man?” she scoffed.

“Intuition.” He dug his fingers in the sand. “So, um… When she visits for summer, do you guys think I should… tell her?”

“Well I sure as hell don’t think  _ she’ll _ make a move,” Declan said with a chuckle. 

“Do it,” A.W. encouraged. “You might as well.”

We all got to listen to Ronnie describing her bobbed hair and her dark eyes and her ‘ancient goddess’ vibes as he held his arms around him; it was the sweetest thing. 

Dinner was pizza we ordered from that same place, right there on the beach. I sat between A.W.’s legs, packing down the garlic bread as he reminded me every so often to take a breath, and then my vitamins and pills when we got back to the house. 

Everyone showered, including us. There was no need for the two of us to take turns any longer– especially with my limited range of motion and his fears I’d slip and fall. 

I pulled him into the nest in the closet after, as he rubbed belly balm over my firm belly, fingers lingering over the divots the stretch marks made, tracing over the darker line down the top of my belly. 

He could smell Wren by our bedroom door before I even knew they were there and his hackles raised at the scent of the alpha before they spoke, “Hey, guys, we’re planning on watching a movie if you wanna come down.” They left without getting an answer.

I stroked a hand along his cheek behind me to relax him, turning his face my way, kissing him. Cause I’d liked that; I liked how I knew I could really depend on him if something was truly the matter. And feeling that safe, that secure, after everything, was just about the best thing I could ask for. 

“Are you too tired to go down?” he asked me, whispering against my mouth.

“No, I wanna spend time with them. You?”

He hesitated, raking his hands up my belly again. “Just let me keep you like this a little longer.” He pulled my head back slowly, so it was resting over his shoulder, murmuring, “You remember when we first mated? You kept telling me I didn’t scent you nearly enough.” He rubbed his scent gland to mine, direct. “And I haven’t scented you nearly enough today…”

“Yeah, cause you were sleeping,” I reminded him, moving back against his motions, bringing my wrist up to the other side of his neck, rubbing the scent gland there, laying that scent over my belly. My smile grew as I felt the pups moving. I closed my eyes, let him do what he pleased for as long as he wanted to do it; it felt so good. Good enough that maybe, just maybe, what was making me close my eyes was the fact that tears were welling up. If I could have lived in that moment forever… 

My ears were burning when I told him, “I love you.” Plain and simple with everything that entailed. I’m not sure if it was enough, but it’d have to do. 

He responded by kissing at my mating mark, his hands resting on my belly, following the movements of the pups as they kicked up into his hands. 

I wasn’t the one to finally suggest we go downstairs to watch the movie– The Princess Bride was the only thing they could all agree on– but I went along with him anyway, making him still hold me on the couch, laying my head on his chest. Linus had his head near A.W.’s hip, pushed into it… sleeping again.

“Is he a necrophiliac or what?” Declan asked.

Matthew’s eyes bulged. 

I couldn’t tell if I was gasping or laughing. 

Matthew asked carefully, “Um, Declan, buddy, do you mean, a narcoleptic?”

“Yeah, where someone falls asleep a lot!”

“Declan, dude, my man, a necrophiliac gets off to dead people.”

Declan spent the rest of the movie staring blankly with a confused, somewhat disgusted expression, not fully there.

A.W. fed me leftover pizza in his lap as he quoted the movie under his breath at specific parts, alternating between giving me a bite and taking one himself. 

After it was finished we helped our awake friends put our sleeping ones to bed, then went to our room ourselves. After brushing our teeth, A.W. changed, and I went out onto the balcony, waiting for him to join me because that’d be so fucking romantic I thought I’d burst. I’d not taken myself for such a sap until I’d met him again. Then again, he wasn’t any old crush. The moon was high up in the sky, and made the lake all shiny and glassy. I could hear the gentle movement of the waves, my breathing ending up syncing with the relaxing sound. It may have been a still night, with the crickets and even some early cicadas producing steady background hums, but even without wind, it had cooled down so the night air felt good on my slightly sunburned shoulders. I glanced over one as he stepped out, taking a deep breath in at the mere sight of him– God I was in love… 

“Hey, Milo, did you use the toilet earlier?”

“Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Did you take a shit?”

“...  _ Yeah _ .”

“It’s clogged. Real bad. I’m gonna go hunting around, see if I can’t find a plunger somewhere.”

And then he was gone. And it was all ruined. All cause that stupid garlic bread had blocked me up for a bit. He did end up finding a plunger. And he made sure the toilet still worked. I was laying in bed on my back, just staring up at the ceiling, somewhere between embarrassed and upset. 

After all was done, he clambered in beside me, asking, “You tired?”

I looked over to him, patted his chest, and said, “I’m not speaking to you until the morning. Good night.”

“What? Why?” I kept my silence for about fifteen seconds. “ _ Milo. _ ”

“Cause everything was perfect and I was waiting outside– and then you come along talking about my shit! We start over in the morning. Good night.” 

“It’s not my fault the toilet clogged! And would you have rathered peeing in a bottle all night?”

“Maybe I would’ve.”

“You can’t even see your dick anymore!”

“Whose fault is that, then, hm?!”

“Well definitely mine, but it was  _ your  _ garlic bread craving that–”

“Don’t even bring up the garlic bread, dude; you don’t know how it feels when the  _ need  _ hits you!”

“Yeah, cause you wouldn’t wake me up!”

“I thought you’d appreciate that! You slept so much!”

He pursed his lips, cracking his neck. “... Yeah, I did. It would’ve been fine, I guess.”

“See?!” He may have been the one with a fire for a temper once it got going, but I was the pissy one in this relationship. I took a mental step back, realizing I was kind of embarrassed about the way I’d romanticized the set up in my head. We were on vacation, but still, before he’d come back I’d never been one for the mushy stuff, even about my crushes. Even when we were kids, that was the kind of thing we’d make fun of, along with Declan. So I did what he always had trouble doing; I apologized. “I’m sorry I had a big shit and got mad at you about it.” True, it didn’t sound so sincere, but it was all I could muster up right now. 

He chuckled, but the annoyance in his scent didn’t change either. “That sounds, just–” he flopped back into his pillow with a massive sigh. “Okay.”

So we slept on it. And in the morning, it didn’t matter because Ronnie was in our nest, creeping in on my side, snuggling up to me.


	29. I'm NOT Gonna Be Too Sore

A.W. might’ve been more asleep than I was at that point, and was working off instinct when he lunged over me, literally snarling at Ronnie, who started to hide in the pillows, yelping, “Dude! Dude! It’s just me!” The bed was filled with the scent of old taffy: Ronnie’s discomfort and a little fear. 

My mate pulled back, grumbling something before flopping back over.

I lifted my head, groggy, patting his side before turning my attention back to my friend in front of me. “What’s up?”

He cuddled close and I returned the contact, sending out calming pheromones, purring, even, something I didn’t often do, but was bound to with my pups on the way. “What’s wrong? Did Linus kick you off the bed?”

“No. I’m just worried.” He sighed dramatically, stretching his legs for a moment. “What if Sonya thinks I’m weird for liking her? Is she still gonna wanna hang out with my sister or…” 

I rubbed his shoulder, scenting the top of his head, fluffy. I wasn’t sure why he’d come to me, even if we were close. Shouldn’t he know I didn’t have the words for him? “You’re allowed to like anybody, Ronnie,” I reassured him. While his fears weren’t unfounded, he really shouldn’t be this worried about liking a Beta. 

“I know, but I always like Betas!”

Oh, it was a preference, then. I nodded in understanding. Some people had preferences about dynamic, fewer had gender, most had none at all, but did expect to end up with a certain dynamic based on theirs. He was tired, just like he’d been last night, and I think that was what was causing him to burst out like this. All I could come up with after a few more moments of just scenting his head was, “You’re your own man. You get to decide this kind of stuff. Not your family. Heck, A.W. and I learned that the hard way. I don’t think your time is gonna be hard like that– not that– I’m not trying to–” I just sighed. “So don’t worry, and just go back to sleep, hm?” 

He nodded, tucking his chin under. I was more than happy to keep stroking his arm until I felt he was asleep, and his scent had gone back to its sugary base. 

My mate almost surprised me, spooning me from the back, leaning on his elbow to see Ronnie, asking just above a whisper, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, just worried.”

A.W. ducked his head to my neck, remarking, answering my unspoken question. “I get why he came here. Your scent changed a little once you started petting him.”

“Huh?”

“It’s all milky sweet.”

“O-oh…”

“It’s nice,” he murmured, before slipping down, coming closer, with his nose at the back of my neck. I think after a little while, he fell asleep again inhaling that scent. 

I nodded to myself. This felt right. Kind of like energy needed an outlet, my growing maternal hormones did, too. No need to be embarrassed. I didn’t fall asleep again, but alternated caring for my friend pushed up close to my chest and belly, and my mate curled up behind me. 

We spent the afternoon at the beach again as a group, Matthew slathering us pale people with sunscreen after gasping at the effects of yesterday’s sun, then, after the sun had gone down and we’d washed up, we went into downtown Cleveland to really explore, Hannah leading the way since she and I’d been shopping in some of these areas, Abby making sure she stopped at all the crosswalks, yanking her back each time. 

Back at the house, even more secrets were coming out on that trip, because as we were all playing Uno on the deck on the first floor, with Linus falling asleep in a chair, he got asked the question why he was sleeping so much lately.

His response? 

A blunt, “I’m going through some shit and this is the only thing I can really do.”

Of course, that set off us omegas, and some of the alphas had produced a croon. He and Ronnie apparently had a heart to heart that night in their bed, and while it produced no immediate results, it made the lot of us a little less worried about the both of them. 

The next night, A.W. pulled me outside onto the balcony, asking, “Is this what you wanted?” I raised an eyebrow at the arm chair he’d pulled from our room, strung with blankets from the nest in the closet and a few pillows on the wood itself. It was understated; it was perfect. 

My scent jumped into something even I could tell was awful sweet as he plopped himself down and patted his lap for me to come on over. It was a small chair, but that meant we got to be that much closer. 

The waves had their same rhythm.

The crickets were humming.

There was even a breeze tonight, and just to be on the cautious side, my mate wrapped me up in one of those blankets that smelled like us. 

Now I remember looking up at the moon and the stars alone on top of my roof, usually trying to smoke a cigarette, maybe crying, but that was all on my own. It felt like we’d never really done this together besides on the beach earlier in the trip– looking up at the stars, that is. And I hoped for many more opportunities. Even if our younger selves would call it mushy. I didn’t have to be embarrassed anymore. 

We began to scent. And scenting turned into kissing. And kissing turned into much more. I asked him in a whisper, lifting up from where I was kissing up his chest that heaved beneath my chin, “Are we gonna be able to be quiet enough?”

“I mean, we’re on vacation. It’d be a shame if we didn’t do it a couple times.”

Yeah, I could get behind that. 

Before I knew it, I was bouncing up and down on his hips, panting, trying to pace myself for the sake of my shaking legs and my pent up voice. A.W. was trying so hard to stay quiet, he hadn’t let go of my mating mark with his teeth; it almost felt like he’d broken skin again, not that I minded with how amazingly hazy I felt right now. 

He was mumbling something against my skin, sounding almost frantic. I tuned in to listen, knocking my head against his, keeping it there. 

He was gonna knot. 

It wasn’t like Dr. Flannery had told me  _ not _ to be knotted.

So I kept going, feeling his knot begin to swell up beneath my rim. I pushed down onto it experimentally, pushing him deeper in, and while he bit harder, a whine held in the back of his throat, I shuddered all over. 

Again.

The pressure from being so heavy was replaced with upward motion into me, alleviating so much of my aching, replacing some. The angle was just right that I couldn’t help from repeating the motion, even if it felt like my legs were about to give out, even if I was gasping so hard I was seeing stars, all the blood gone from my head. My legs did give out before I finished, still shaking beneath me, unable to dislodge him so deep within me; his knot was almost breaching, so close it was maddening, even aching a little. So he took a more active role, and I was so slick the half-swollen knot popped in and out of me again as he thrust up inside. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, curling them up into his shirt, drooling a mess on his shoulder, my half-open eyes widening with every movement. 

His hands found their way into my hair, leaving my hips, his fingers trembling. I cried out as his teeth shifted in my neck, definitely having drawn blood already. It happened again when he tried to pull his knot from me, but it was too big to pull out now. He let go of my neck as he heaved his breaths, moving inside me, then finishing, his head over the back of the chair. His eyes were bleary as he raised it again. I shifted, trembling, still feeling him releasing into me, everything stretching; I tried to move on him, but failed again and again, unable to support my weight anymore. He murmured my name affectionately before cupping the back of my neck, bringing my head to his shoulder again, and finished me off rocking into me and using his hand on me. 

I still couldn’t seem to catch my breath as he wrapped the blanket around my trembling body, couldn’t tell him that I wasn’t shaking from cold. He skimmed his fingers over the mating bite. I could feel it stinging, but it didn’t register to pain because of where it was. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, kissing around it in apology. I laughed (more like wheezed) at how easily it came from him this time. 

He helped me to the bathroom where we did our usual, washing each other up in the shower, and he got me into the nest on the bed before bringing the things from outside to the washing machine downstairs, including our clothes. Now, I knew I couldn’t just not wear anything to bed here, considering someone might come and nest with us, but I couldn’t find the gumption to get up and grab something for quite a while, and when I did, it was just an oversized nightdress, big and boxy, but short, not bothering with trying to pull anything on bottoms-wise. I was too tired to move anymore when A.W. got back, so I just whispered what I can only describe as nonsense to get him close to me. He got Moony situated for me so that the weight of my belly wouldn’t hurt during the night and came so close to me. I passed out before I could even say good night. 

It shouldn't have surprised me when A.W. refused to get up in the morning. He tried to keep me in the nest, tried to keep his arms around me, and scent me even though he was half-asleep and I had a scab over my mating mark. I did let him, though, getting my mouth on his neck, pushing out as much scent of him as I could, rubbing my face and neck into it, bringing it down to scent my belly.

And then the pups forced me to get up as they used my bladder as a trampoline; sadly, I didn’t make it to the toilet before I exploded, but the good news was I didn’t wet the bed, so… 

I went with Wren and Abby on their walk, both teasing me about the reenforced mating mark, surprised by it; I didn’t care, I wore it proudly– Maybe at that point I was even flaunting it, I dunno. But still, before we had a late breakfast, I crept back up to our room and left some flowers I’d found on the walk by my mate’s head, hoping he’d wake up and see them before he rolled and crushed them. 

I guess he was making the most of our vacation by catching up on sleep. While everyone else went out, I made the excuse I wanted to stay with my mate.

It meant we had the whole house to ourselves for a few hours. 

Once I’d waved bye to everyone going to the paintball range, I bolted back upstairs to A.W., shaking him excitedly. “Dude! A.W.! Wake up!”

He jolted up. “Wha– What is it?”

I didn’t really need him sitting up for this. I used a hand and pushed him back down to the bed. “Look left.”

He did, and took the flowers, being just as thoughtful with them as I wanted him to be. “Aww, thanks sweetheart; these are great.”

“Good. Now let’s have sex.”

His eyebrows shot up. Then they went all the way down. Then it was just one– “So the flowers were just a courting gift to get sex?”

“You like it when I give you flowers!”

“Yeah, but you’re not letting me appreciate them,” he teased, admiring them some more. My scowl just got deeper and deeper. I moved, straddling him, and waited. He glanced up, but kept on it with the damn flowers. 

“... A.W.”

“Hm?”

“We have a limited amount of  _ time. _ ” I pointed at the door. “Do you know how much convincing it took to tell Hannah and Beaver that paintballing is fun?!”

“They’re going paintballing?” he asked, looking almost crestfallen. 

I rested my hands on his chest, softening a good bit. “... I should have woken you up. They left only like five minutes ago. I’ll call them and they can come back and–”

He pulled a devious smile, sitting up and looping his arms around my neck to pull me down as he said, “No, I like this better.”

After the fourth round back to back he huffed out, “What’s gotten  _ into you _ , Milo?”

I couldn’t breathe much either, could only point to my mating mark and joke, “You.”

Slowly, he clambered over to me, climbed on top of me, arching his torso out of the way of my belly as he bent over me and caught his breath some more. My skin kept tingling from the way it felt. And then he focused his attention on my mark, keeping his mouth near it, keeping me on edge. When his lips just brushed the healing wound, I couldn’t pinpoint what it felt like, only that it made a shock go through my body down my spine and the psychological pleasure from that attention from my mate was blinding right now. He was careful with it, not damaging it any further, layering love and affection to the area.

And then he started to bite. He left steady little bite marks all over my neck and chest as his hands roamed my front, none that hurt, just enough to leave pink in my skin. His breath was shaky as he told me, pressing his cheek to mine, “I can’t get enough of you, and it's exhausting.”

Good. Good was the only thing bouncing around in my head in response to that, but I could barely get the single word out when his mouth moved further down my chest. I had to remind myself that we were alone in the house and no one could hear me. As he worked his mouth, his teeth, blowing cold air, I could only wonder in fascinated horror if there was a chance my milk would come in early. 

My hips were starting to twitch when he groaned. He was hard and heavy again against my leg. 

Between kisses, he said, “I’m not sure if I should be inside you again; you’re gonna be too sore.”

I had to agree with him. I was not in heat at the moment and I was already feeling kind of sore and stretched; there was too much liquid inside me. 

Still, he rubbed himself against my front and my nails dug into the sheets as I gasped. Before I knew it, I was on top of him, facing down towards his legs and hips and he had his hands on my rear, pulling me closer; my belly was resting on his chest. I relaxed my back to bend to put my mouth around him. I jolted, feeling his nails dig into me in response. And when he started on me, I couldn’t do anything more than pant there with him half in my mouth, resting on the flat of my tongue. I was twitchy when he finished me off, my head lolling to rest on his pelvis before getting up close and personal with his knot, seeing how it could breach my hand when I curled my fist around it, testing the hold and letting go, giving attention to the dripping head, then squeezing the full knot again. 

It was a good thing we were home alone. 

Since the rest of the gang was going out to a place near the paintball arena for some lunch, that left us to our own devices as well. We cleaned up, called an uber, and went to a nicer restaurant near downtown, splurging with our parents’ money, and it really felt like a date. Not one of our date days our parents allowed where we hung out around our little town, maybe ate at Woody’s, and messed around. All the dates I’d been on had been set up just like this: a good quality cafe, a small table just for me and my partner, and A.W.’s scent. His scent had always been there. Now, I had him sitting in front of me as my partner, not prospective, but my mate. Though, it was his fault I had to try and squeeze into one of my button down shirts just so the collar could hide all the marks he’d left. I was more than happy to just sit and listen to him tell me everything he was picking up online on one of his dynamic forums about being an Epsilon and what it meant for his fatherhood, my chin leaned into my hand as I watched him use his hands, his eyes bright with promises and excitement for the future. Course, even if I had the guts to tell him I loved him every other minute, it would break the conversation.

“That’s what I’ve heard, but I think it’d be best to go with your instincts seeing as you’re the birthing parent,” he said to me, cocking his head.

“I mean, I’m sure I’ll have a hunch once I actually see the boys, but I presented for sure when I was around four. At that point, even strangers could smell I was omega. But I guess it was more confusing for you. Your doctor told you.”

He cut his eyes to the side for a brief moment. “I think I’ve been meaning to ask this for a while, but, uh… What’re you gonna think if one or both comes out as a  _ different _ dynamic? Like an Epsilon or Gamma or Delta…”

I raised an eyebrow. Of course he’d worry about that. “Nothing? From all you’ve told me over the years, there’s not a higher chance of a different dynamic than the main three passing that on, so jot  _ that  _ down. And more importantly, it doesn’t matter.” I laid my hands flat on the table. “ _ Absolutely _ doesn’t matter. We raise them the same no matter what, and teach them about themselves. With baby books or something. I feel like books would be a good way to go.”

He spread his hands. “They didn’t have any baby books that said: ‘Hey, you’re an Epsilon! Watch out! People aren’t gonna like you because genetically you’re supposed to be a lone wolf!’ when I was little. 

“Then I’ll hire Matthew and Hannah to write one.” I stuck up my nose. “Whatever kind of dynamic our pups are.” Nothing was said for a few moments. “... You’re really worried about this, aren’t you, honey?”

He wasn’t looking me in the eye. “I mean… every parent wants the best for their child, right?”

“And that’s what they’ll get.”

I got time to digest his worries along with my lunch as we wandered around town, even stopping in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, a big glass pyramid of a building. Somehow, they didn’t mind me taking in my to go box of A.W.’s fries I kept picking on. With the pups getting bigger and bigger, I had less room to pack it away in one sitting, so snacking was something that was encouraged by Dr. Flannery.

It was going to be our last night here on the lake; tomorrow we were driving back. Abby surprised us all with fireworks– just small ones like sparklers and poppers that wouldn’t be noticed too much on the public beach. It felt surreal as we ate a grocery store tres leches cake with tiny plastic spoons, cold from the ice in the cooler, and chased each other with sparklers, writing our names, writing cuss words, writing whatever the hell we wanted before it vanished into thin air. Wren and Hannah had been good about taking pictures of our trip, and the last one we took was huddled together behind the words ‘Spring Break’ written into the sand, the sunset shining into our faces as we played chicken with white-burning sparklers. It made for a blurry picture cause Ronnie almost lit my hair on fire, but the smiles were genuine. It was the kind of photo you’d print out and leave it without a frame to stick on your wall. 

When we got home, I did just that, going into the garage to dig through boxes and find the glossy photo paper. I stuck it on the wall near my closet where the natural light would hit it and remind me of good times. By the end of the night, two more pictures had been added without me knowing by my mate: one of Beaver and A.W. shoving Wren and Declan into the water during a chicken fight, and a candid shot of me on the beach in the evening. I didn’t know who’d taken it, but I was glad I was looking somewhere else, my full face not visible. I had to ask A.W. as he came up behind me, a hand on my forehead, tilting my head back to see my eyes, “Why do you like that one?”

“Cause it’s you, you goober.”

“But like… more than the other ones?”

He let loose a breath, looking over me to the photo. I could see him putting his words in order. “First off, you look  _ so _ handsome with that light…” I rolled my eyes, nudging him. “Second, I think Hannah snapped that when you were really quiet. I still don’t know what you were thinking about, but you look calm. And you look resolved.” He blinked a few times, as if coming back to himself, backtracking with, “But I dunno, it’s just a pic–”

I was kissing him before he could go back too far. 


End file.
